We're all gifted in one way or another. You may be an athlete, a musician, a friend who can listen like no other. Sharing these gifts may seem more straightforward: volunteer as a soccer coach, teach kids how to play an instrument, share your time with others who need a shoulder to cry on.
Yet I think it's possible to consider past struggles as gifts worth sharing, too. Allow me to clarify: struggles instill in us new sensitivities that can be considered as gifts. We've each had our fair share of challenges in life, and it's incredible to see how far God has carried us. He uses hardships to shape us, but I don't think the impact stops there.
One night in small group, a question was asked, "If you were stuck in a prison with no hope of getting out, what would you ask?"
I'd ask, What was it all for?
It's true that what we faced in the past makes us who we are today, but if the reach of these challenges could not extend beyond us, our experiences become as finite as our lives on Earth. Lessons learned, insight, and wisdom die with us. I believe that the challenges God places in our lives are gifts that challenge us to do for others what we'd have liked others to do for us. Otherwise, what really changes?
I can call Cornell home now, but I remember how dark that first year at Cornell was. I have pretty bad memories of feeling utterly alone in the midst of crowds, which is arguably one of the worst ways to feel lonely. Crowds within Christian environments were no different. Sitting in a pew at church by myself because nobody wanted to talk made me feel pretty horrible. It's a stark contrast to how I feel towards my church community there today, but I don't think that anyone is immune from this problem. Despite being unintentional, exclusion still exists in communities, Christian ones included.
I've found myself becoming more and more of a floater, so cultivating my own community has become easier, but I grew up having that core group of friends in school and in church. My first year in college blessed me with a tight group to call family. As a college sophomore, I felt like the new kid in the second grade. This "gift" of discovering what loneliness feels like as a transfer student has made me confront the reality of exclusion. I noticed throughout my junior year how common loneliness can be among new students. It's enough to be dropped into a big sea without many resources, and to expect the little fish to navigate the entire ocean immediately? Without a guide or a school to join?
A pastor mentioned earlier this fall that your gift is a provision for your assignment, and your assignment is a provision for a need. For me, I've realized that the need is inclusion, especially among new students. My assignment is to extend myself to new students. That ability to provide, through connection and understanding, is based completely on my gift of having struggled as a transfer student myself. I was able to return somewhat comfortably to Cornell last fall, and I confidently feel integrated into the community today, but the results of this progress is not of my doing. I've arrived to the end of the tunnel and I experience that light, but it's important to remember who has placed me in this moment.
I've had to put myself in all different situations and persevere in some communities to find where I belong, but God was the one carrying me through it all. The only comfort I found in singing "I Will Follow You" during a lonely morning at church, wondering why on earth I left Emory, was knowing that Jesus Christ faced the ultimate loneliness and rejection. He knows exactly what it feels like to be abandoned and unwanted. Keeping the gift of experienced hardships to myself would be a disservice. So much exclusion can be addressed and mitigated!
So like I said - we've each had our fair share of challenges in life, and I'd like to challenge you to ask yourself, how can I view them as gifts to bless others?
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