God’s Got My Back: A (Pseudo) Frosh Reflection
Here are some anecdotes and lessons I learned from this past year, hopefully for your encouragement and edification. Enjoy 😊
I’m NOT ”him”.
“For who makes you different from anyone else? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as though you did not?” — 1 Corinthians 4:7
Staying home for my undergraduate degree gave me access to many unique opportunities, and I was involved in many extracurricular activities growing up. While I enjoyed serving and exploring my God-given gifts in different capacities, I regrettably began to recognize during my fourth year of undergrad that I had become so focused on building a good name and reputation for myself that I lost focus on intentionally bringing fame to Christ’s name.
Moving to Waterloo was a much-appreciated change of scenery for me, where I could live in relative anonymity and emphasize Christ’s sufficiency in my life as the sole reason for my worldly progress. And I’ve loved it here. People here are remarkable, incredible, and brilliant, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed being a small fish in this larger pond. But these changes did not come without growing pains, and perhaps the greatest lesson from my time here has been the necessity of meekness and humility.
“My heart is not proud, O LORD, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me” — Psalm 131:1
Back home I was the “teacher,” admired by many for my research experience, academic prowess, and spiritual “depth.” But at Waterloo, so many people that I met knew more than I did about the things I once professed to be knowledgeable about. Not being able to answer questions posed by students in the tutorial classes that I taught, bombing multiple technical interviews, and having my spiritual immaturity put on full display did a number on my ego and made me rethink my self-identity. It forced me to acknowledge that in a lot of circumstances I’m better off listening and asking questions than speaking and giving my opinion.
On this nonlinear and asymptotic journey of sanctification, God has been teaching me the art of meekness through my weakness. Although I need constant reminders that I’m NOT “him,” I am slowly learning that unimpressiveness does not imply unimportance. I don’t need to be the flashiest person in the room or fixate on knowing everything there is to know about data science or theology to feel “complete” as a person. My understanding of meekness is having the ability to stand out but the humility not to, and last year was a much-needed lesson on what it means to glorify God and elevate Christ’s name above my own.
Running Track or Handing Out Tracts?
“You have done a foolish thing,” Samuel said. “You have not kept the command the Lord your God gave you; if you had, he would have established your kingdom over Israel for all time. — 1 Samuel 13:13
Moving to Ontario also meant forgoing the majority of my extracurricular activities, and although I wasn’t sad to quit most of them, one thing in particular was harder to relinquish than the rest. I had been a track and field athlete since I was 15 and competed in varsity athletics for all 4 years of my undergrad. Although I was never a star, I had the privilege of forming great friendships with many amazing athletes, and was looking forward to joining the Warriors team. However, in spite of the fact that I had achieved the team qualifying standards, I didn’t have peace. I was sensing God’s call for me to give up track, and I was NOT happy about it.
My obedience to this call came with much grumbling and other acts of spiritual immaturity, and I begrudgingly prayed for God to “give me something better to do with my time” if I wasn’t going to be training anymore. The next day, I got an email about a new class offering that clashed with practice times but was on a topic that I was very interested in. I registered for it, told the coaches that I was quitting, and finalized the decision before I could take it back.
“But Samuel replied: ‘Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams.’” — 1 Samuel 15:22
I sometimes wonder what things would have been like had I successfully convinced myself that I was just overthinking things. Praise God that I’ll never know. Although I still dearly miss track and the first few weeks after quitting were miserably empty, I quickly found more fruitful things to do that have blessed me far beyond what I could have asked for, such as joining a campus fellowship. More on that later.
This experience taught me that surrendering to God requires a heart posture with arms outstretched and palms facing upwards, allowing Him to freely give and take things from your hands as He chooses. To clench your fists and hold onto a perceived blessing that God is trying to remove may mean denying yourself the opportunity for it to be exchanged for something even greater, and that’s something that I pray for the grace to never do.
Mr. Incredible
“A man’s heart plans his way, But the Lord directs his steps.” — Proverbs 16:9
How does an African guy end up at a Chinese Christian Fellowship (CCF) anyways? Well, I’m glad that you asked, and I think this story is worth sharing as a testimony of God’s providence and faithfulness. For grades 10–12 I was part of a program called Bible Quizzing, where youth memorize Bible verses and compete “Jeopardy-style” on their knowledge of the verses. This program played an instrumental role in strengthening my faith growing up and although a lot of the verses that I memorized are long gone, the Holy Spirit will bring some back to mind when I’m faced with tough decisions.
In 2018 I represented Alberta at a tournament out in Hamilton, where my team lost in the finals against a talented southern Ontario team who wore red t-shirts with the insignia from Pixar’s “The Incredibles” on it. After the competition I exchanged contacts with the team members, including their top quizzer Andrew, aka “Mr. Incredible.” We went our separate ways after the tournament and didn’t really stay in touch.
“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” — Matthew 7:7
Fast forward to Fall 2022, my first term at UWaterloo. I’d been feeling a bit spiritually dry, and hadn’t made many Christian friends since moving here. One day, I prayed something along the lines of, “Hey God, I’ve been loving the anonymity here, but it would be nice to have some [Christian] friends.” Lo and behold, less than 48 hours later I got a message from Mr. Incredible himself, to the effect of “Bro, idk if I’m tripping or not but I could have sworn I saw you walking out of the AL building this morning. Do you go to UWaterloo?”
He recognized me after knowing me for less than a week and not having seen me in over 4 years. God answered my prayer. Andrew invited me to Trinity Bible Chapel and CCF later that week, neither of which I had heard of at the time nor would I have looked to find otherwise. Stories like these reinforce my conviction in God’s plan for me here at UWaterloo, and are a reminder that we can trust God’s faithfulness because He orchestrates the past in order to secure our future.
Konviction at Korner Kitchen
“May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.” — Romans 15:5–7
I was initially reluctant to integrate within the CCF community as I constantly wrestled with the question of how “deep” I wanted to spread my roots out in Ontario. I knew that grad studies would be over in a flash, and the last thing that I wanted to do was make temporary friends whom I would feel “pressured” to stay intentionally connected with after I graduated.
Even though I was in a similar season of life in terms of moving away from home and truly “adulting” for the first time, I didn’t feel comfortable participating in events like Frosh Cell with the other first years because, well, I wasn’t one (although I had been told multiple times that I gave off “first-year energy”). I also didn’t have the same bond that the other fifth years who were my age had, as I lacked the 4+ year head start of memories that they shared. So although I had things in common with both groups, I never felt like I truly fit into either. My CCF attendance in the Fall term was therefore very sparse, though I thoroughly enjoyed the sessions and always left feeling refreshed and thankful to interact with young people who actually cared about growing their faith in a season of life where so many chase after the flashier things of this world.
“Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:11
My approach to relationship-building changed near the end of the Winter term when I had lunch with some of the graduating students after a church service. We had great fellowship in conversation over our vastly different life experiences and how God had worked through all of them. After the meal one of them said something like “It was nice talking to you. I’ll probably never see you again, but I enjoyed lunch.” This simple comment revealed the flaw in my thinking — I had selfishly put my fears of avoiding the pain of drifting apart over my heavenly calling to engage in mutual edification of the brethren.
With this new understanding, I decided to engage with the members of CCF more intentionally, signing up for intramurals and partaking in more non-Friday events. I’ve been adopted into the fellowship as a brother, and the weekends that I normally would have spent out of town for track meets or at home coding are now used to engage in interactions that glorify God and edify those involved. Pretty cool.
The One with Two Talents
“His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.’” — Matthew 25:23
The Spring semester got off to a rough start for me, as I was ghosted by multiple companies that I had begun promising talks with for a summer internship. I wasn’t registered in classes for the term, but instead of using my free time to be productive in other ways, my days were spent anxiously checking my email for responses that never came and sullenly questioning God for why I had been suddenly met with radio silence.
I was thankfully convicted of my sin when my small group went through the Apostle Paul’s final letter to his protegé Timothy. Paul was in prison, bound in chains, and had every reason to complain about his condition and unfair treatment. On the contrary, however, Paul uses the letter to exhort and encourage Timothy, giving him a stern charge in 2 Timothy 4:5 to “fulfill your ministry.” The circumstances that Timothy faced were no excuse for him not to be faithful to the calling that God had given him, and this hit me like a brick.
“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters” — Colossians 3:23
It brought to mind the parable of the talents in Matthew 25, as I wondered if the person given two talents ever felt any envy or complained after not receiving five talents like his colleague. I know that I am definitely guilty of comparing myself to those who are more talented than I am and arrogantly thinking that if I had been blessed with that many talents I would do way more with them than they are. This is wrong, for even with my “two talents,” time and time again I fail to use them to their full potential.
Now that year 1 of grad school has concluded and my graduation is looming, this lesson has served as a reminder of the necessity of faithfulness to what God has entrusted to me. While I still wrestle with uncertainty about my future and struggle to understand the implications of some events from my past, my present job is simple — be a good and faithful servant. I don’t have all of the answers in life, but I do have the Spirit of the One who does.
And He’s got my back.
