Faith And The Unknown
August 6, 2013 § Leave a comment
The following was written by our dear brother, David Webster. David has blessed us for the past several years with his drumming, passionate presence, and heart for worship. No longer living in West Michigan, David is still very much a part of our community with a beautiful journey. Join me in listening to and cherishing his story.
When Chelsea asked me to write this entry, I immediately knew that I wanted to write about how being a young adult is scary, that facing the wide open ocean that is life can be a bit terrifying in its vast uncertainty. I’m about to enter into grad school at Purdue to learn how to be a rocket scientist. My girlfriend is going to IUPUI for her fancy Master’s degree in nonprofit management. Shortly after we both graduate, the plan is to get married and start a life together. Exactly where in the county that ends up being is about 40,000 feet up in the air. It could be in Texas, it could be in Colorado, it’s probably not going to be in Europe, but who knows!
This is all very new and exciting and stressful in a big way, but literally everyone goes through crazy times in all stages of life. My father moved to Texas a few months ago after he and my mother got divorced. He had a job and a dog, and moved halfway across the country after spending the past 20 years in mid-Michigan. If we’re talking abrupt, brutal change, my dad makes me look like a bubble boy.
Yes, being a young adult poised to join the workforce is scary. But change itself is unexciting. I will go through it constantly until the day I die. It is what God does with change that is wonderful, heady comfort.
I refer you to my parents. Dad tells me all the time about how happy he is, and regales me with tales of the cool pups and people he met with Mia at the dog park. He’s searching for a church, he loves his work, he grills, he is filled with joy where some people would be terrified and bitter, throwing up walls and hiding behind them.
Mom is going back to school to get her masters in musical composition. She’s writing a memoir of her comical and incredibly sad upbringing in an impoverished, unstable household in Port Angeles. She’s going out with my sister to Tiger’s games in Detroit. She’s working through her grief via the creation of art, beauty, and knowledge.
God is setting off fireworks through my parents. The wrenching end to their struggling marriage has been redeemed by the infinite Love. Change is ugly and boring and uncomfortable without Him. With him, it’s a wet, happy dog snoozing on the couch in the sun. It’s a muse that has you writing a dozen pages a day. It’s a marriage long waited-for going down without a hitch.
In about two years, I will be a Fully Grown American Man® who pays taxes and owns a weedwacker. Right now, I’m still in beta. There are tough times in store for me during the coming months, but God provides for me. The book of James says to “consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”
Endurance is not a pretty thing. It is sweat and gritted teeth, and it is mostly appreciated in hindsight. But God is at work through it all the same. Through every new thing tacked onto a schedule, for every new, unasked-for responsibility, God picks us up by the scruffs on our necks and drags us through.
In about two years, I’m going to be a very different man, shaped by the challenges of grad school and maintaining a healthy, pure Christian relationship from first meeting to marriage. Through every tiring day, God will take me, because God thrives on change.