Faith & Journey

They purchased the house 22 years ago. Another family had tried and failed to win the contract and, as an act of revenge, set fire to the house.

It still stands today, fire damage still evident. Seven children have grown up in this single-story, white five-room house. The youngest, Paul, is thirteen; his older brother, eighteen.

At some point along the way, Appalachia Service Project came into the picture and began to fix the house. Not only is there fire damage, but water damage and rot and termites and a poor foundation have also taken a toll on the building. The family, of meager means, had no way to adequately repair the house on their own. Through ASP, they depend solely on the love and work of volunteers.

I, along with several others from InterVarsity or other organizations at Virginia Tech, Old Dominion, and Saint Louis Universities, was one of these volunteers. Our team spent the week reinforcing the roof with cross-bracing, tearing out ruined insulation and walls, and demolishing the structurally-unsound front of the house. A second group, from Old Dominion, finished installing a new floor in the main room, as well as adding a new interior wall.

Before we arrived, previous groups had replaced several exterior walls and removed the interior carpeting. The week after our work, a group came to finish the foundation for a new front room and porch.

Each day, we would leave the worksite for lunch, driving a mile down the road to an old farmhouse, built in 1793. Six years after the Constitution was drafted. Two hundred and sixteen years ago. There, we talked to the family about the Civil War, Confederate flags, the C.S.A. Hunley, railroads, and all sorts of things while we ate our peanut butter and jelly (or turkey) sandwiches. They invited us into their lives, showing us some of their prized possessions, allowing us to play with their amazing dogs, evil goose, mellow horse.

We grew to love this family. We grew to love their determined outlook on life, despite the hardship they faced. We grew to love their selflessness and openness. We grew to love all the history in their minds, homes, and yard.

Little in my life has been more fulfilling than spending eight hours a day, for a five day week, giving my all to see this family have a warmer, safer, drier home. Little has been more fulfilling than seeing their appreciation and seeing the change in the house itself. In all of it, I could see Christ. In their hospitality. In the friendships created and strengthened. In the work we did. In the love that sprang up that week. Christ was there.

“…I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.”

-Matthew 25:40

Christ came to serve, not to be served. And we, his followers, are called to do the same. How wonderful it was to serve this family in the spirit of Christ, expecting nothing in return. I shall not forget them.

If you had asked me a month ago to describe my faith, I probably would have detailed it as strong and thriving - but largely untested. At the end of last semester, my spirituality seemed to be approaching a definitive high stemming directly from the encouragement I received through Intervarsity, and I began to witness God’s work in most every aspect of my life. I was frequently overwhelmed by His grace, and each day I sought to deepen my relationship with Him, whether through prayer, bible study, or fellowship. But as my faith continued to intensify, I couldn’t help but wonder if and when God would test my strength. And if He did choose to test me, was my faith strong enough to withstand?

That test came on December 25th, 2008, as I was confronted with a simple but devastating Facebook notification. I logged onto my account Christmas morning to find that a dear friend of mine from elementary school, Nick, had committed suicide just one day prior, on Christmas Eve. I literally went numb, and for minutes I stared blankly at my computer, refreshing the screen over and over, hoping that by some miracle the notification would simply disappear…maybe I was reading it incorrectly, maybe it was a joke, maybe someone made a mistake…but it never disappeared. Without thinking, I put down my laptop, closed my eyes, and began to pray. All of my emotions – the grief, the confusion, the frustration – were released in that moment, and oddly enough, despite my anger and sadness, I had never felt closer to God.

Nick was an incredible person with a brilliant sense of humor and a genuinely kind and caring heart. But the summer prior to our entering sixth grade, his father died unexpectedly, and his life descended into a relentless battle with depression, drugs, and alcohol. We slowly drifted apart - it had been a few years since I had last seen him – but not a day went by that I did not pray for his wellbeing. I knew of his struggles, and in my newly revived faith, I trusted that God would take care of him. After the news of his passing sank in, I was overwhelmed with guilt and regret for having not worked harder to maintain our friendship, but I was mostly full of resentment towards God for seeming to ignore my prayers. My anger was furthered when I visited his mother days later. Through shared tears and laughter, we spent an evening looking at old pictures, telling stories, and reminiscing of the time Nick and I had spent together. As the night wore on, however, my thoughts shifted from Nick to his mom. Not only had this woman just lost her eldest son to an unthinkable tragedy, but she had also lost her husband, the love of her life, and a few years prior to that, she had lost her mother to an agonizing battle with cancer. How could God possibly inflict such pain on one woman’s life? I questioned how she found the strength to wake each morning, how she managed to not only care for herself but also care for her remaining son, Ben, Nick’s younger brother. And with this all, when I asked what I could do to help her, what I could provide, if anything, to make her struggle a little bit easier, she selflessly replied: “Pray for Ben”.

Upon Nick’s passing and my subsequent visit with his mother, I was reminded of a recent 180, where the speaker addressed relationships with God in times of sorrow. The speaker explained that it was okay to be angry with God, to be frustrated by the ambiguousness of His plan to our human minds, and to express that anger and frustration through prayer. I had come to appreciate God’s presence in times of joy, but it was not until experiencing sorrow that I truly began to recognize His unwavering love; despite our sinful nature and our lack of understanding, He will always provide comfort in our times of greatest doubt and uncertainty. I hesitate to wonder whether I would have had this sense of security a few years ago, prior to my involvement with Intervarsity and the renewal of faith I experienced as a result. But I thank God each day for blessing me with the support I now have through IVCF, knowing that in even the greatest times of sorrow, I will always have my faith and fellowship to carry me through.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.”

~*~ 2 Corinthians 1:3-5 ~*~

Thank you IV for the comfort you have provided me. Please keep Nick and his family in your prayers.

It is Sunday afternoon. The forest behind my house is painted in muted browns and greens. A few ribbons of white mark the landscape as well, for the streams and rivers are almost completely frozen.

I know the next time I visit the forest, it will be mid-May. By then, life will have returned in full force: Trees will again be covered in leaves, small ferns and things will dot the ground, spiders will sit on newly-spun webs. The backyard deer herd will again have doubled in size, pushing twenty members.

Seasons change and life begins anew.

Come Tuesday, we’ll be starting a new semester. This country will have a new President. InterVarsity will have a new Vision Team, some new Bible Study leaders, new Worship Team members. Blacksburg will have a new Panera Bread (Who’s going with me??). This website itself is new, and really well done. I love it. Not only is it a resource where InterVarsity general information and news will be posted, but we are treating it as a blog as well, with several contributors. I pray that everyone who visits this site can benefit from the articles, photos, and videos posted here!

And now I don’t really know what to write and have no clever transition, so here are some random (ish) thoughts:

We are the Body of Christ. Each of us have abilities and talents to offer as part of this body. Paul speaks of this in First Corinthians 12: “The body is a unit, though made up of many parts.” I love InterVarsity because the people here so embody this. Everyone is so unique with so many abilities, and so many give those abilities back in wonderful ways. I know some incredibly loving people who are always encouraging and cheering others up. I know some incredibly knowledgeable and experienced people who have so much wisdom to offer. I know some incredible musicians and singers who use that talent to worship God. I know some incredible people who do not realize just how much they have to offer, just how much a difference they already make without realizing it. We are the Body of Christ, and all of us have roles as His followers. What talent in your life could you give back to God?

God does incredible things through us. See Ephesians 3:20. So often, I make the mistake of expecting God to work in a vacuum. I expect His miracles to be those of pulling rabbits out of hats – materializing things out of nothing. Can God do that? Yes. But much, much more often than not, His miracles and workings are accomplished through people. I ask – what will God do through you this semester? His call goes out: “Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?” What if you were to respond, “Here I am, send me!” and act? What if we all did, encouraging one another, praying for one another? If we truly seek after this, expecting God to work by the power of His Spirit – well. I expect we shall see miracles we could not even fathom today!

Do not forget what God has done. Take time to remember the works of God, both those written in the Bible and those written in your own history. I forgot these things last semester, and it cost me dearly. I limped along, relying on my own strength for much of the time, watching my spirit shrivel up. Remember who God is! Remember what He has done! Look back on the life of Christ, on the miracles in the days of the early church, on the miracles in your own life. Many Israelite traditions of the Old Testament were put in place as memorials – when participating in these ceremonies, it was to remind Israel of all that God had done for them. We too need to remember the amazing works of God.