This Is My Story
A young conservative boy grows into a man with a deeper faith
There is something very vulnerable about telling your story. On the one hand, you don’t really know someone (even yourself) until you know their story. And when we know other’s stories, it helps us understand who they are and gives us a valuable perspective of where they are coming from.
But on the other hand, there are are so many personal ideas and beliefs that you could go into that no matter what you say, there will come a point when someone disagrees with you. This is because we are all fallible human beings though we often do not live as though we believe this.
It is always dangerous to publically share your thoughts, much less your story, as your words are often read in a vacuum and in the absence of a personal setting. But I think the reward of being known and understood is greater than the risk of judgment, so I submit to you my story.
This is my journey of faith — the background, key influences, and pivotal moments in my life that shaped who I am today. I am still on this journey; I have not reached my destination. But for the moment, I humbly over these frail words.
The Formative Years
I grew up in a conservative church.
This is where I typically begin my story. My allegiance to the King encompasses all other parts of my identity, so in a significant way, the story of my life is the story of my faith journey. I also start here because the church I grew up in has a profound impact on the shape of my narrative and my life’s trajectory.
It was in this church that I spent many of my formative years and where I built the first framework through which to see the world. I start here not because it is where I am now, but rather because it helps me understand where I am now.
So, I grew up in a conservative church. A conservative church of Christ, though I would later find out that ‘conservative’ has a different meaning in some churches.
From a young age, I soaked up the doctrine and worldview of this particular church and loved almost every minute of it. I learned all the arguments (only a slight exaggeration) and even came up with my own arguments as to why our positions were correct. I loved discussions of theology, especially when it was on a controversial issue where I could argue well.
That’s not to say that I love conflict (if you know me, you know that I actually hate conflict), but when it came to right theology, I was always ready to defend my beliefs. Though looking back now, there were many times when my defense was actually an offense.
A representative example might help paint a picture of my theological world as a young boy. I vividly remember days in high school when we would have a substitute for band class, and a group of us would gather around in a circle of chairs in the back of the band room to talk theology.
There were two or three of us from the church of Christ, a few from the pentecostal church, some other denominations, and about a million Baptists (shout out to all my Baptist friends, just joking around here!).
We’d gather around and throw Bible at each other (not literally, though I’m sure there were points where we would have liked to do that) for about an hour and a half and then disperse at the bell. We’d all leave feeling good about ourselves, without learning a thing.
Note to young Walter: angry debates do not often invite true reflection and spiritual growth.
Before I left high school, I thought I knew just about everything there was to know about theology. I know that’s a bit cliche — doesn’t every immature teenager think more highly of themselves than they should?
But I mean, I had some evidence to back it up. I had been trained from a young age to know my bible, to memorize scripture, and to be able to defend my beliefs. I would make PowerPoint presentations and write articles detailing my arguments for or against this or that position— for fun!
I once spent a full day off of school (I think it was a snow day) writing an eight-page paper detailing why it was wrong to use instrumental music in worship. What teenager does that?
I think the only time I got a sense of my infallibility as a young person was the time that I went to bible class and the teacher said we were going to be studying about the man of God from Judah. I had never heard the story before — maybe I didn’t know everything there was to know about the bible and God.
But that feeling didn’t last very long. At least not before I graduated high school.
My College Years At UTC
In the fall of 2010, I went off to the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga with the intention of majoring in pre-med and becoming a physician. Perhaps it’s typical that worldviews start to change in college. When you go off to college, you are introduced to many different opinions and people, perspectives that differ from what you have always known.
This can be particularly jarring if you grew up in an echo chamber, where you really only associated with (and listened to) people who held the same beliefs you did. If you go to a public college, you almost certainly will experience new views, and your own will be challenged.
My worldview didn’t begin to change when I first went to college. At least not in ways that I could really detect. What did seem different was my attitude toward attending church. I had found a church right off campus that I came to love, and I noticed that I actually really enjoyed getting up on Sunday mornings and going to church.
I had always hated when people would say, “You shouldn’t say you have to go to church, you should say you get to go to church.”
I guess part of the reason I hated the phrase was that it was actually convicting— maybe I didn’t really enjoy going to church all that much, and I really did feel like it was an obligation. Regardless, now that I was on my own and had started attending this church, things were different.
The church was still conservative (I wouldn’t have even considered going to a church that seemed more liberal), but it was a bit bigger and did have a few things that might have made me uncomfortable at times. But I could overlook most of that (especially since the theology and doctrine were quite the same), and I grew to love going to this church.
The people were loving, I made good friends, and perhaps most importantly (at least to young Walter)— they taught what I believed.
What I didn’t love was the Christian Student Center (CSC), a campus ministry that this church oversaw. The church was conservative, but I was convinced that the CSC was a hotbed of liberalism.
I was invited to go to the devotionals on Tuesday nights by members of the church and my friends who went to the CSC, but every time I went they did something I was uncomfortable with (mostly clapping during the singing — gasp).
The campus minister was also the teacher for our Sunday morning and Wednesday evening bible classes, so I already knew that he and I didn’t see eye to eye on many issues that I thought were vital to a “right” Christian walk.
My friend and I would sometimes even have rant sessions that lasted hours about how he was teaching dangerous things, especially to young people who might not be ready to hear (aka defend against) the teaching.
I would tell people, “the church is great, but I don’t recommend the student center.”
Little did I know.
Cracks In My Theology
I guess it’s one of life’s ironies that some things you are so sure about can be the very things that change everything you thought you knew. I was sure that the CSC was a liberal organization leading people astray, and the campus minster was heading the charge.
It wasn’t until my sophomore year that my worldview really started to be challenged (and begin to crumble, though I wouldn’t have admitted it at the time). My friend and I have coined the term the “sophomore shift” because, in our antidotal experience, that’s when college-age young adults really begin to see their worldviews change. This was at least true for us.
One of the first things that started to crack my worldview was something I heard that this campus minister had said. My friend had gone on a mission trip with him and told me that he didn’t think it was necessary to take the Lord’s Supper every Sunday and that he actually was not going to go out and get the elements so they could do it.
His reasoning was that Paul said in I Corinthians 11, “as often as you do this.” I was so mad. That is wrong! You have to do it every Sunday! But the longer I thought about it, the more and more that phrase — as often as you do this — stuck in my head. That’s not right!
But, I mean… that is what the bible says. But no, that can’t be right! But it’s right there. Am I arguing with the campus minister, or am I arguing with the bible?
A similar crack happened one night when we were going over the church treasury. The campus minister challenged us to find one place in the bible where they had a treasury. Fortunately, I had been prepared for that question!
In I Corinthians 16, Paul tells the church to “lay by ‘in store’ on the first day of the week” (I guess I Corinthians played a pivotal role in my spiritual maturity — maybe that’s why it is my favorite New Testament book). I had always been taught that the Greek word for ‘in store’ was the Greek word for treasury. I quickly raised my hand to destroy this man’s question.
But he just said, “actually, ‘in store’ does not mean treasury in Greek. Look it up.” What? Are you kidding me? I was sure that wasn’t true.
Then I looked it up.
I don’t remember the order in which my beliefs began to be challenged or all the conversations that I had with a lot of different people about them. What I do remember, however, is that I really did start having conversations with people who didn’t agree with me, conversations where I actually listened.
And when I listened, I found out that there were actually some pretty good arguments on the other side of many issues.
My views didn’t change quickly. I wrestled with different challenges and arguments. My worldview began to crumble. I had to know what was right. I had to know why I believed what I did. I had to make my faith my own. It took years (and is still ongoing, of course). And it was this process that led to a much, much deeper faith. The road to get there was rocky.
But I wouldn’t have to do it without help.
Friends, Fellowship, And A New Life
It’s funny how just a few small words can have a disproportionate effect on your life. Such as the phrase that kept challenging me — “as often as you do this”.
Another instance of this happened about halfway through my first semester as a Sophomore. I was ready to give it all up and move back home, attend the local college there, and leave the school that I thought didn’t care about me. But as I was having a conversation with a friend one day, almost in passing, she made the simple statement,
“You know, for someone who UTC supposedly hates, they sure do give you everything you want.” [Referring to a junior/senior-level class that I was able to get into as a sophomore]
That small statement challenged my prevailing narrative (that was largely based on not what had happened to me, but rather what had happened to a friend) and changed my entire perspective almost immediately. In a twist of fate, I would soon decide not only to stay at UTC but also become a student director at the CSC!
If you had told me just a year or so before that would I become a student director at the CSC, that would have been my definitive proof that prophecy had ceased after the first century, Me? Work at the CSC? With those liberals? Ha!
But there I was, preparing for lunches, welcoming students, and leading devotionals. And it absolutely changed my life. I would not be the man I am today if it were not for the student center. It played such a pivotal role in my life, and I cannot express my gratitude for that church and the CSC enough.
To this day I constantly pester college kids to check out the campus ministry on their respective campuses.
The student center was the closest representation of the communities of Christians described in Acts 2 that I have ever experienced. Not in terms of culture, per-say, but rather in the way that we met together almost on a daily basis, shared meals together, laughed and cried, and grew deeper in our faith.
A typical week was composed of church on Sunday, Monday/Wednesday lunches at the CSC, Tuesday night devotional at the CSC, bible class on Wednesdays, girls/guys small group on Thursday night, and various activities off and on the weekends. Most weeks it seemed like Monday nights were the only night of the week that we didn’t have something planned.
If that sounds like a lot, well, it was. But I loved it.
Tuesday nights became the highlight of my week. There is something so powerful about sharing dinner together and then entering a time of dedicated spiritual thought and praise. It was not a ‘job’ for me to be a student director — it became who I was. The friends I made there are some of my best friends to this day. My faith was both challenged and sharpened.
It was not uncommon for some of my friends and me to be in deep theological discussion at 3 am in the morning. Those are some of the few moments in my life that I honestly felt completely satisfied, as though I could die at that moment and everything would be just fine (that’s not at all to say I’m unsatisfied with life now— I just remember thinking this in those moments).
As I had deeper conversations with people about faith, I came to many different conclusions about various positions that I had traditionally held. Some might think this is dangerous (or that I had ‘gone off the deep end’), but this actually strengthened my faith. Even when I was less confident about what was ‘true’ and as I learned just how much I didn’t know, my faith grew stronger.
I slowly transitioned from worshiping correct doctrine to worshiping the One on whom all doctrine depends. I began a journey of questioning, challenging, and learning. I was making my faith my own.
Now, this is a cornerstone of my faith, digging deeper, learning more, and reasoning well with a preponderance of the evidence. Christianity is a deep well.
The Faith Of A Scientist
I graduated from UTC with a B.S. in Biochemistry and I moved to Little Rock, Arkansas to pursue a doctorate in interdisciplinary biomedical sciences at the University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences (UAMS). I have had a love for science and math from a young age. As I stated above, for a long time I wanted to be a physician.
There are various reasons why my path changed slightly to instead go into medical research with a Ph.D., details that will perhaps find their way into another story someday. But one major driving factor for my interest in going into science professionally was my desire to reconcile science and faith, and honestly to shine the light of Jesus to the scientific community.
At least that’s the soft way of putting it. Before my faith was challenged and I went through a transition on many issues, I was extremely interested in apologetics — the brand of apologetics that uses ‘science’ to prove the bible. In high school/early college, I was a hardcore Young Earth Creationist (YEC). Kyle Butt at Apologetics Press was my role model, my hero in many ways.
For my final English 1020 persuasive paper in college, I set out to prove God and the Bible through science; the paper eventually turned into ‘Why it takes more faith to be an atheist than to believe in God’ by heavily drawing on YEC science to cast doubt on the age of the earth and evolution.
(I actually found Henry Morris’ The Genesis Flood in the library and used it as a treasure trove of source material before I even knew the significance that this book had for the American creationist movement.)
I wanted to go into science to prove that a conservative Christian (and by conservative Christian, I mean a YEC) could be a scientist. I wanted to minister to the scientific community, a community that isn’t often thought about when we talk about evangelism. And honestly, I was well on my way there halfway through college.
Even though I was a science major, the classes I had to take to fulfill my biochemistry degree steered away from any material that discussed evolution in-depth (this was probably because I was tested out of Intro Biology I&II and the biochemistry degree was housed in the chemistry department at UTC, so the core degree was more focused on chemistry than biology).
I think it was not until my senior year in college where my ideas on science and religion began to change, if ever so slowly. Maybe I needed to work out other aspects of my faith first (aspects that honestly seemed much more important) before I considered my apologetic viewpoints.
Or maybe I just wasn’t surrounded by anyone who challenged me on this yet. Whatever the reason, I hadn’t really explored science and faith in any detail (or at least not in the detail I had for other issues at the time).
But then a book was suggested to me on the subject called The Language of God by Francis Collins. The book was interesting, but it definitely didn’t convince me right away. Like all of the other challenges, it would take a long time to really study, listen to different views, and draw my own conclusions, as tentative as they ever may be.
However, there was one little section that truly convicted me when I read it. The section was titled, “God the great deceiver?” Without going into all the details, the basic question of the section was, ‘If the earth is actually quite young and evolution is false, why did God make it look as though the earth is old and that life had an evolutionary past?’ I didn’t have a good answer.
And thus began my journey of reconciling science and faith with an open mind. This would become one of my favorite topics to study, and I have probably read more books in this realm than any other field. Not surprisingly, you have probably already deduced that my views here have changed substantially over the years as well.
But even in this area, I believe there is a deep well of reconciliation and harmony. I did not see this reconciliation before — it was all or nothing. I was taught that either mainstream science was true or the Bible was true. But this is a false dichotomy.
There is actually a range of different beliefs that genuine Christians hold on this topic. Many issues are much more complex than we would probably like them to be. But that’s what makes these issues so interesting.
Unfortunately, this false dichotomy has shipwrecked the faith of many.
It may well have shipwrecked my own if I had not been introduced to other ways of looking at the debate from friendly sources. Actually, the resource that probably did more to open my mind to other views of Genesis was not directly related to the science and faith debate.
Building A Robust Faith
When I first moved to Arkansas, my friend Kaleb found this guy on the internet named Michael Heiser who had some weird views about the gods mentioned in the Old Testament. His lecture intrigued me, and I ended up listening to every episode of his podcast (for a few years at least) and reading his major work on the topic (which I highly recommend).
What Heiser did for me was open my eyes to the supernatural worldview of the bible. He put the words of scripture in their Ancient Near Eastern context, which dovetailed nicely into John Walton’s Lost World of Genesis One. I had always been taught that context is the key to understanding scripture.
But I had never actually known what the context of the biblical writers was actually like. And it was fascinating. It still is fascinating. As is this whole topic, both science and faith, and especially how they intersected. I continue to read and study. That’s the beauty of God’s handiwork — you never reach the end of learning more about it.
I think what this journey has taught me most poignantly is that a shallow faith that is based on confident answers and untouchable positions is very fragile. It is like a house built on sand, if not for the very reason that this type of faith is built on something other than Jesus.
If you ask Ken Ham what the foundation of the Christian worldview is, he would answer [a literal view of] Genesis 1–11. I disagree. Jesus is the foundation of the Christian worldview, not any particular interpretation of Genesis. Christians have held a range of views about the opening chapters of Genesis, even before Darwin’s theory was conceived.
The Christian faith is a robust faith, and we need not be afraid of science coming to knock it down. It has withstood much more in its 2,000-year history, and it will continue to stand. It is built on the firm rock, the rock that is Jesus.
Unfortunately, this is one of those subjects where there are very strong opinions and you can get branded as a heretic if you do not hold a particular view. So I won’t say too much more about what I actually believe here. I plan to write more on this topic later if you are interested. Or you could just ask me in person (as Nicodemus, not as the scribes and lawyers).
The Christian Family In Little Rock
I had a different set of circumstances and experiences to learn from and grow through in Little Rock than I did in Chattanooga. I was worried when I left the college scene that my faith would never reach the heights that it did in those years. I had lived in a community of Christians, eating and discussing theology with them frequently throughout the week.
It was beautiful. A time of deep conversation, deep relationships, and deep growth. However, when I looked out at the church, I didn’t see what I saw at the student center. Don’t get me wrong, the church family in Chattanooga was wonderful, and I still love them dearly to this day.
But what I saw on most Sundays was a lot of college students and a lot of older people. The young professionals and middle-aged groups were underrepresented. I even gave a devo while I was at the CSC called “The Christian Mid-life Crisis,” because I wasn’t sure that you could continue to be a Christian after college.
At least, I didn’t have many role models who lived this out for me (there were certainly a few, and I am deeply appreciative of you to this day. I hope you know who you are).
Fortunately, Little Rock would teach me otherwise. The church that I was a part of in Little Rock held some of the most loving and committed Christians I know. They taught me that Christian family and fellowship did not only exist in college ministries, but it could thrive in the ‘real world’ (not that college isn’t the real world… but I mean, it kinda isn’t).
Within a year (or so, I can’t actually remember exactly when it happened) my week was actually quite similar to a typical week in Chattanooga. Church on Sunday, a young people’s bible study on Tuesday nights, bible class on Wednesdays, 6 am (shocking, I know) men’s bible study on Thursday mornings, and various other social outings with friends.
The question of ‘can you live in Christian fellowship post-college?’ had been answered with a resounding ‘yes!’
When Assumptions Fail
But I must tell the story of how I ended up in the church that I did if not for the only reason that my wife has heard this story approximately 146 times, and I felt as though I owe it to her to record it here for prosperity. And it is a very important aspect of my faith journey.
For those of you who may be unfamiliar with the church of Christ, there are two subgroups of ideologies that often define individual churches — institutional and non-institutional (that’s actually a gross oversimplification, but it’ll have to do for now).
To paint it with very broad strokes, the institutional churches generally are okay with using the church treasury to support institutions (e.g., orphanages, disaster relief funds, bible colleges) and the non-institutional churches do not believe the New Testament gives Christians the authority to do so.
There’s so much more to unpack about all that (again, things are complex, not simple), but that’s not relevant to this story. What you need to know is that the institutional churches are the larger group and are generally seen as the more “liberal” (though this word means different things to different people and has an extremely wide range).
I grew up in the institutional churches. Well, I grew up in a church that honestly rode the line between institutional and non-institutional (NI), but I wouldn’t realize that until much later in life, and we certainly thought of ourselves as institutional. Actually, I didn’t really know much about the NI churches. I just knew we weren’t them.
Before I moved to Little Rock, I had done some research about churches in the area and thought I had found one that I wanted to attend. But when I visited, it did not have the family atmosphere I had grown accustomed to in Chattanooga (yes, I did go back later and had pretty much the same, if not worse experience).
Leaving Sunday morning a bit disappointed, I did a search for other churches that afternoon and realized there was one just two minutes from my apartment that I hadn’t seen before. “Sweet! I’ll check this one out tonight.” The difference was night and day. They were on top of welcoming new people in and I felt like this was just what I was looking for.
But then, one night after services I was talking to a friend of mine and he asked me where I had gone to church in Chattanooga. I told him where I went, and he gave me a somewhat puzzled look. His family had just driven through Chattanooga. Our conversation went something like:
Him: “Central? Oh I thought there was only a couple of churches in the area and I’ve never heard of central”
Me: “Oh no, there's a lot of churches in Chattanooga. Where did y’all go when you drove through?”
Him: “We went to North Hixon.”
Me: “North Hixon? That’s an anti-church...”
Him, puzzled as well: “What’s an anti-church?”
[The term ‘anti-church’ is often used to denote NI churches— this term originated as a shortened form of ‘anti-institutional’ church; however, it did become somewhat derogatory as time went on and I want to apologize for using it in a negative way before I knew all the history behind it.]
At this point, I should have realized what was happening. But I didn’t. I wasn’t prepared to explain what an anti-church was because I just thought everyone knew.
I fumbled an answer saying something about them not supporting widows or orphan homes, he kinda nodded in confusion, and our conversation just went in other directions.
Later that night I get a text from his brother: “Hey, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation earlier, but I just want to let you know that Fairview doesn’t support widows or orphan’s homes.”
It was here that I realized my mistake. But I totally punted. I said, “Oh, well I’ve never been to a church that does.” Because I hadn’t. Not because they thought it was wrong. Just because they hadn’t.
So there I was, six months into attending this church, developing great bonds and loving my time there with absolutely no idea that they were a NI (which just goes to show how little difference there actually is between the institutional and NIs), and now I had to make a decision:
Do I keep going there? Or do I find another church? Can I go to a church in good conscience knowing that I disagree with them?
After thinking about it for a while, I realized that I also disagree with the institutional churches. My faith had become my own, and I held many nontraditional views. Further, I am a strong proponent of unity, and one of my biggest frustrations with the subgroups in the churches of Christ is that they are so divided and won’t talk to each other.
If I left now, would I not be doing the very thing I get mad at them for doing?
Embracing My Church Family
So it was settled. I had already made great friends, I am a very loyal person, and I realized I was never going to find a church with whom I agreed 100% on everything. I would stay. And what a great decision that was.
This church would become one of my best church experiences of all time. I absolutely love the people there, and I have great respect for them. I learned so much from them, and formed life-long friendships, just as I had at the CSC. Little Rock will always have a special place in my heart.
The irony was not lost on me. At the time that my beliefs were getting less traditional, I ended up in a church that was more conservative. But there were much deeper ironies that I experienced along the way. Or at least experiences that were counterintuitive.
Such as the fact that it was in this more conservative, NI church that I found people (who were older than me) that were actually willing to openly discuss and consider issues. I found people ready to be challenged and to dig deeper. Of course, it certainly wasn’t that everyone was like this, but it surprised me just how many people I found who were.
Perhaps this was because for the first time (at least in a long time) I actually had deeper relationships, personal relationships, with people who were older than me. Sure, I had these conversations and discussions among friends in college. But they were all my age, and I thought that younger people were just more willing and open to different views and ideas.
I was wrong — at least to a degree. The church in Little Rock taught me that those relationships could span age differences and survive into the post-college life stage. Many of you already know that I’m sure. But blame it on my naivete, because I was more than pleasantly surprised.
Meeting Jessie
My time in Little Rock was filled with so many things. My faith had changed in college, and that was exciting. But it wasn’t until I moved to Little Rock that I think I really came into my own. Even though I was still in school, it wasn’t like college. It felt more like the real world. The relationships I was forming were deep, and I really went through some significant life-events.
You know, like marriage!
The only reason I thought about applying to UAMS was the fact that my sister was attending Harding University at the time. As I was looking for different graduate schools, my thoughts were something along the lines of “Well, at least I know someone in Arkansas.” I didn’t actually think I would end up there at the time. It’s funny how life works.
I had (only half-jokingly) been pestering my sister about ‘gettin’ me one of them Harding girls to marry.’ Little did I know that this is precisely what would happen. Jessie transferred into Harding the spring semester after I moved to Little Rock. She and my sister, Haley, had become quick friends, and Haley kept saying to her, “You really need to meet my brother.”
She tells this part of the story better, so you should ask her about it sometime. She finally was feeling spunky one day, and said: “fine, sure, let’s do it” (those were not her exact words, full disclosure).
We met on Easter Sunday when Haley and Jessie drove down to Little Rock to visit (cue cliche ‘it was meant to be’ Christian meeting music). There is much more to this story, but what is most relevant to our topic here was Jessie and my discussion on our first date a week later.
I drove up to Searcy, AR and we went out to dinner at a local Mexican Restaurant (Casa Brava, for those in the know). I really think it was our conversation that night at dinner that made it all work. We told each other our faith journeys and where we were currently (so, basically what you just read, up until the Little Rock point).
We both came from very similar backgrounds, had similar stories of our passionate zeal to convert people to our ‘side’, and we both had gone through similar transitions in our faith where we were challenged and began to make our faith our own. Most importantly, we both had a strong faith in Jesus.
The Basis Of Marriage
It is this foundation that I believe can make any marriage stand. If you both love Jesus and are committed to Him and one another, then your marriage will work. I have said for many years that love is not a feeling — love is a choice. Sure, there are plenty of feelings involved, don’t get me wrong. But you cannot rely on those feelings to get you through the tough times.
Every marriage will have tough times. But being a faithful disciple of Jesus is the foundation of a solid marriage.
Jessie and I disagree on many things. I live vibrant, bold colors, she likes pastels. I like chain restaurants, she likes mom-and-pop shops. I’m a pop junkie when it comes to music, she loves indy artists.
But our marriage works because we are committed to loving one another and loving Christ. If this is the only thing we agree on, it is the most important. (Yes, that is an over-exaggeration, there are things we agree on — just the other day we realized that we both like vanilla bean ice-cream, and what more could you ask for than that?)
Each of us fills out the parts that might lack a bit in the other. And that’s a beautiful thing. ‘The two shall become one flesh.
Walking In Memphis
Moving away from places you have invested in and grown — places that have so many people that you love and cherish — is always extremely difficult. When I moved from Chattanooga, I was in denial about it for months before I moved. When we moved from Little Rock, it nearly broke our hearts to leave the people we love.
One of the most beautiful aspects of the Christian faith is the assurance that in the new age we will be united again with our family, to spend everlasting ages in the Kingdom of God with the people of God. But until then, it is hard to leave each other in this life (even when you’re only moving 2 ½ hours away and the only thing that can really keep you from traveling would basically be a pandemic…).
Actually, my goal in life is to move everyone I love to the same city. Maybe buy a big piece of land, build some houses on it, make a community garden… that’s not weird, right?
But until then, life goes on. After graduating from UAMS, I moved to Memphis, TN to begin a postdoctoral fellowship at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. I joined the lab of Dr. Richard Webby studying the influenza virus. And let me tell you — I’m absolutely loving it.
As weird as it might sound, I love viruses. I just think they are so interesting, and I know I have found the right field of study. Plus, the Webby lab and St. Jude both are wonderful environments.
The Lord has blessed us richly in Memphis, even in the middle of a pandemic. And just as it was in both Chattanooga and Little Rock, we have found a great church family here as well. Even though we’ve only been here for a year, we have already formed some deep bonds with the people here and have a wonderful fellowship.
It shows God’s good planning that even when you move to a new area, you can quickly pick up with the people of God there. There is just something about the firm foundation upon which your mutual faith is built that already connects us before we even know each other. And I praise the Lord for this.
Who I Am Now, And Who I Want To Be
I didn’t know that my early life would prepare me so well to be in the position that I am in today. This can be said just as much for my scientific career as it can be said for where I am spiritually. I believe that the unity of Christ's body should be pursued fervently, and I want to be a bridge-builder for my fellow brethren.
I want to challenge people to think about their faith and beliefs, to go deeper, and to build their faith on the rock that is Christ Jesus. I want to ease the tensions that have cut through our fellowships. I want to know the love of Christ, and share that with my fellow Christians and with the world.
I am still learning, still growing, and still looking for the Spirit to work in me and through me. He has taught me much in all the places I have lived, and I expect no less here in Memphis.
And of course, Memphis is where we will experience our newest life stage.
Life Isn’t Always Sugarplumbs And Raindrops
They say that hindsight is 20/20 (little did they know that 2020 would make this saying take on a completely new meaning). Much of the story I’ve told you here has been the positive aspects of my journey of faith. Challenging, sure — but positive. I don’t want to leave you with the idea that my journey of faith has always been good, however.
In many ways, the bad aspects of the journey are what shape the overall picture, teaching us what is important to highlight and remember. But there have been bad times. Deeply rooted sin, heart-wrenching church splits, devastating lost friendships, conflict, compromise, and family health issues to mention a few.
This post is not the place to lay all that out. But I wanted to mention it here so you know that life hasn’t been all rainbows and gumdrops. However, what has been constant is the Lord’s provisions, even when my heart was, as the old hymn saliently puts it, ‘prone to wander.’ And He will do the same for you.
Though I might not write about it here, if you want to talk about something, let’s chat one on one. My life is pretty much an open book in the right (safe) circumstances. If you are struggling with something, it may well be that I have been or currently am struggling with it too.
I believe open communication is key to our relationships and our relationship in Christ. As a brother in Christ to those of you who are disciples, or as a Christian ambassador to those who may not be, I am not here to judge you. Rather, I’m here to let the love and light of Christ shine through me, to illuminate you and lift you up. To spur you on to life, true life.
I pray that the Spirit of Jesus is seen in me. And I pray the same for you.
Post-script
Of course, this is not the full story. So many things have been left out, important things. But these are the words I have for you now. If you have read this far, I just want to say thank you — it truly means a lot to me. I pray that the Lord bless your life as He has mine.
