the one where I talk about Lynbrook Agape

It's about time I wrote this post, beginning to end. If anyone reads the whole thing, thanks, even if you did it because you had nothing better to do, which would not be surprising.

You'd think that I'd tell a lot of friends in college, especially my Christian Chinese Friends, a little bit about my high school Christian club, considering how big a role it played in those four years of my life. But I only remember bringing it up with two people - Lemuel (only because Cheryl told him) and Susan (beloved discipler). Part of why I didn't really feel like bringing it up might be because it seemed a little pretentious and boring, much like another essay about a mission trip is to a college admissions officer. Another reason was it is a significant part of who I am (whether or not I like it) and the last thing I wanted to hear was "So you helped lead your high school Christian club for four years? How cute." And, most of all, college is supposed to be about moving on, and this was one area in which I desperately wanted to move on. I've learned that part of moving on is addressing your past point-blank, however. Which is why I wanted to get this off my chest on my blog at least, if not face-to-face with someone who is interested and patient.

It's not that being a part of and leading Agape was nothing but turmoil. Haha. To the contrary, Agape is truly one of the best things that ever happened to me. It was through those people that God opened my eyes to see His mercy, kindness, glory, and outrageous matchless agape love for the first time, when I was an insecure, disillusioned freshman in dire need for something I didn't know I was missing. Agape was a home to me when church didn't feel like one (while it still encouraged me to commit to the body there). I encouraged and was encouraged, served and was served, fed and was fed, confronted and was confronted, loved and was loved. We were not perfect people and some of our mistakes brought serious harm to the club, but oh man good times.
That said...things went downhill when I started to prioritize the things I could "do for God" over time with God (same old, same old). Serving the club became so intertwined with my own spiritual life, that it was hard to distinguish the two. So that when leadership went sour, my relationship with Jesus inevitably went sour too. By the last semester of senior year, when the club needed me to take the reins with authority and love, and I was already dealing with other emotionally cumbersome things (that has a story of its own), I found myself depleted and fearful and utterly confused. We'd talk about the importance of intimacy above all else in that choir room, but where was mine? I couldn't hear God, understandably. At one point, I wanted to quit presidency (thank God I didn't) because another leader seemed so much more capable and already much more in control. I could sense that people who cared deeply about the club were getting frustrated, and rightly so, and it must have been really hard not to judge me or lose faith in me in that situation.
God, knowing exactly what I was going through, sent a sister named Yining to help me get back on my feet that spring. I needed someone like her so bad - someone older, wiser, someone with enough of God's love running through her veins to minister to me in that pathetic state. She told me that I had forgotten what it meant to let myself be pursued by God. To be honest, I didn't take it fully to heart because I thought it was too positive. I was expecting rebuke. That was, in fact, rebuke.

So this was me after having detached myself from all Christian club duties during the summer before college, disappointed, "free" to move on. When I did pray, it was something like...
God, I feel like I almost don't even know you anymore. I forgot what it means to not have to constantly take the initiative, afraid of not being good enough, of being jilted. I don't have to be that perfect, mature Christian model before You, because You know me inside and out and You are never going to leave me, or stop pursuing me when I look completely pathetic, when I'm running away from You. And I need to let You love me...somehow.

Around this past March, God spoke to me through a particular verse in BBS led by David Gorrell (While I'm at it, shoutout out to David, whom I very much admire) That there is nothing life-giving about suffering in itself, there is nothing fruitful in Davidically crying out to God if there is no Davidic resolution to obey in the few ways I can while I actively wait. During my entire senior year of high school and some time afterwards, I wasted a lot of time bitterly wondering whether or not I was ever meant to lead Agape. It is a useless quandary. Whether or not it was a mistake for leadership to appoint me, it is simple - I was there for a reason. I was there to love God, to know His will, and then, led by and confident in the Spirit, to obey God in the modest ways I knew how.
I admit it still saddens me a little to think about ways I failed people (I hope they forgive me) and they failed me (I forgive them), but I can't really do anything about the past, only ready myself to do better the next time. I am grateful for that chapter in my barely started walk with Christ, even though I failed to act out in the midst of trial. I am grateful for the people who did stick through with me, wherever they are now. I am grateful that, even in our foolishness and weakness, God still showed up and worked in the club, that God's love covers over a multitude of sin and that His mercies are new every morning. I am grateful that God is still interested in me even when I hardly believe in myself, still pursues me although I have a hard time understanding the concept of His Love when He is shrouded in so much mystery, still is God, glorious, majestic, life-giver and life-sustainer. All creation yearns.

Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23