This Battle Doesn't Belong to Me Anymore

I don't usually go to LOFT, which is Calvin's Sunday night service. Tonight, I'm very glad I did.

The theme for tonight was 'David and Goliath.' We read through the story, complete with Pastor Mary's hilarious embellishments, and after that was done, we got down to business: she asked us, point-blank, what our giants are. What are the giants that we are afraid to admit to anyone?

Struggling in school?
Fear?
Feeling out of place?
Eating disorder?
Pornography?
Self-doubt?
Self-injury?
Anxiety?

The list goes on. Pastor Mary looked us in the eyes and said "This giant is not yours to face. This battle doesn't belong to you. David trusted God to deliver him from Goliath, and he wants you to trust God to take care of your giant too. You can trust Him. He can do anything. ANYTHING. Nothing that you are facing is too big for him to destroy."

She then invited students to share the giants that they face every day and to claim the power that God has in store for us. One after another, people shared stories of fear, anxiety, depression, eating disorders, identity crises, loneliness, out-of-place-ness, and other things. These brave students publicly (and very, very bravely) shared their giants with us and claimed God's protection, strength, and healing. I was sitting there in awe of their bravery and I knew I would never have the courage to do that in front of all my peers.

But as the service came to a close, and the time had passed for me to share, I thought, why can't I have that courage? I just need to ask, right? I don't need to be afraid. And even if I am afraid, I don't have to let it consume me. I can stand up and be strong. With God's help.

So here goes. I'm going to tell you the story of my giant.

I've been fighting depression since I started college. One thousand one hundred and eight days of feeling worthless, heavy-laden, and afraid. Not every single day was a bad day, but having several good days in a row was a very rare occurrence. My outlook was bleak. It was hard to just get out of bed every day. It is STILL hard to get out of bed every day. God picked me up and set me on my feet every morning, but it was hard to remember that and be thankful.

I was incredibly lonely throughout my time at GRCC. I was living at home, almost all of my friends were living the high life away at college, and I was in the same place I was back in high school. Just without friends and with little social interaction outside of my family. I began to cling to the moments of going out for coffee, visiting friends' dorms, and seeing them for just a few minutes every week. I clung to them with everything I had because I was drowning in loneliness.

When I transferred to Calvin, I hoped that the intentionality of creating community would pull me out of my loneliness. I was able to see my friends from high school on a more regular basis, but they had moved on and made new friends, as they rightly should have. I tried to assimilate myself into their new groups, but I've never been very good at that, and I always had a voice in my head saying You're an outsider. You're never going to fit in with these people. Stop trying. 


My first semester of living on campus (fall semester, junior year) did not go as planned. I knew that where I was living was not going to be the same as the dorm experience is for many students. I was hoping to meet some new people, have people to hang out with, and maybe make some friends. I had no roommate, and therefore spent a LOT of time alone. At this point, all the people my age had moved off campus as I was moving on. They were busy with their own lives, I was busy with mine, and our schedules always slid past each other. For this reason, I was hoping to make some new friends from my building.

I met a total of 6 people that semester who lived in my building. 6. 2 were RAs. 2 of them were the guys across the hall who constantly played their music too loud with their doors wide open. The other two were girls that I got along with pretty well, but both graduated that semester and I haven't seen them since. I constantly told myself that I should be more sociable and more outgoing, but I didn't know how. That voice was telling me Who would want to be your friend? What does anyone see in you? How did you have friends in the first place? People are too busy for you because they don't want to spend their time on you. 


You can imagine my enthusiasm to spend a semester in Spain, where I knew 2 people in the group of students and where everything very suddenly and very harshly became an unknown. It was the longest 18 weeks of my life. I experienced my very worst fights with depression while I was there, and it's only by the grace of God that I survived them and emerged, a little worse for wear. I thank God for the help He sent me along the way, in the form of my classmates, and I've already written a tribute to them on this blog (search on the right hand side under May for 'Living with Lions' for more about this topic). I would have given in to the temptation to end it (in more ways than one) had it not been for them. Dark times. But God's light shined brighter, even when I had trouble seeing it. There was one person in particular who held her light out to me day after day, and I don't thank her enough for it. I thank my God every time I remember her and I'll be forever grateful that God crossed our paths in Spain and continues to cross them now.

Summers were the blazing light in my school year darkness. I have spent each of the last 4 working at the Conference Grounds and it has blessed my life beyond description. I have found a second family there and friends that have walked beside me through this fight. It really says something about a summer job when you long to see your co-workers during the school year. The Conference Grounds is synonymous with community. The staff is a family, and the campers get to become a part of that family. I'm so thankful for them. Without this job, there would be no break from my despair. This is not to say that I never felt depression while at the Conference Grounds. Far from it. But I knew there was always someone who would be there for me, holding out their light to me, ready to walk beside me for as long as I needed them to.

That brings us to this moment, two weeks into my senior year of college. 1,108 days of fighting this beast called depression. Some days I won. I overcame it temporarily. Most days, I was defeated, but held on long enough to go to bed and hope for victory the next day. The beast has been gaining strength over the last several days, and I'm not sure why, but today was one of the worst days. Almost on the same scale as the days in Spain. But after experiencing the power that the others claimed for their lives at LOFT tonight, I want to claim it too.

I will not let the beast destroy me.
I will not give in because of fear.
I will not hide from it.
I will claim God's power and strength.
I will not let anyone look down on me because of the things I have shared.
I will not listen to the voice anymore. In fact, voice, you're banished. Get outta here.
I will try to live with courage every day.
I will be brave.
I will give this battle to God.
I will wait on Him.
I will seek rest.

If you've been able to read all of this, it means I clicked "publish" instead of "discard." Right now, even as I type, I'm having second thoughts.

But the giant ahead of me is NOTHING compared to the God behind me.

Deep breath. Go.

Blast From the Past

I worked in the store last night and I can say with 400% confidence that it was 80 billion degrees in there. We sold liquid ice cream instead of solid ice cream and I made 5 Fuzzy Freezes in a row. For those that are unfamiliar with this product, it is orange sherbet (one of our hardest ice creams) and Sprite mixed together with our Razzle machine. Basically, it's the thing that takes the longest to make, besides maybe hard shakes and malts.  But here's the good news: I made 5 of them in 12 minutes. That's less than 3 minutes per Fuzzy Freeze! Olympic champion right here.

Close to the end of the shift, I served a man his double twist (which is about 6 inches tall). This in itself was a colossal feat because the soft serve was very tippy. Anyway, he complimented me on how nice the cone looked. Here is how the conversation followed:

Man: "You know, this is a really nice cone. It's so straight and it's not leaning at all. A few years ago, I got a double twist and the girl was obviously new and not very good at soft serve and the whole thing tipped over when she handed it to me. I was so mad. It got all over my shirt and practically ruined it. I kind of chewed her out because it was all her fault and she should have made it better. I wonder if that girl still works here...and if she's gotten any better at her soft serve cones..."
Me: "Sir, I'm the one who served you that cone."

Open mouth. Insert foot.

I'm happy to say that he was speechless and then apologized profusely for chewing me out and making me feel horrible about that cone. It was my first summer, an incredibly hot night, soft serve was either so soft it wouldn't stand up on its cone or it wouldn't come out at all, and I have always remembered that customer. It felt kind of nice to have him apologize for the completely undeserved tirade he unleashed on me. :)

I guess even after 4 years, it's still worth it to apologize.