Being remembered
Two Sundays ago, as the youth group sat in a circle around the garage sharing thoughts and memories from and with the graduating seniors, I found myself taken back in memory to the days when I was getting ready to leave the safe confines of South Bay suburbia for the unique environs of UC Berkeley. Each of this year's seniors had plenty of shared experiences that they'd enjoyed with their friends, and listening to them reminisce reminded me of how much more significantly sheltered and shallow I used to be when I was their age.
A while ago, I flipped through my senior year yearbook from MVHS. Amidst the old photos and articles, I read through the notes and comments from friends and classmates. The profoundly depressing thing was that 98% of the comments I received were about: 1) my scholatic ability (i.e. "We were in all the same AP classes... you're a smart guy... good luck at Berkeley, don't become a hippie!") or 2) my love for sports (Warriors, Giants, etc.). Even looking at the memory book the youth group put together for me (as they did for all the graduating seniors), I could detect another two common themes: 1) how tall I was (I was relatively tall during high school, too bad I just stopped growing) and 2) my goody-two-shoes nature in Sunday School (memorizing verses and the like - this was what I thought being a Christian was about at the time).
From page to page, I could sense some deep-seated regrets in me rising to the surface... being so insular as to not take advantage of having friends... investing overly much in studies rather than people... sure, it's not like high schoolers will necessarily be all that deep in their sharing, but the cold fact was that I had a significant lack of memories and experiences with friends. More than that, because human beings are by nature social creatures, I was also somewhat behind in my own journey of self-discovery and striving for personal depth due to my inability to relate well with other people. I was remembered for some very shallow things, and that depressed me.
I like to think that I've grown some since that time. Learned some things about myself, who I am and who I am not. Did my best to build some friendships and invest in people. More than anything, I've had the blessing of meeting Jesus and turning myself over to Him to be shaped into the unique Christ-follower He initially created me to be. I hope that if I'm to be remembered for anything, that would be it.
Two Sundays ago, as the youth group shared memories, thoughts and laughs together, I breathed a quiet prayer for those seniors - glad that they had the chance to be remembered by their friends for who they are and what they've done. But more than that, I hope that in the coming years they will gradually know more and more the One who brings meaning to life, and that they would be remembered for that faith over any other memory.
Two Sundays ago, as the youth group sat in a circle around the garage sharing thoughts and memories from and with the graduating seniors, I found myself taken back in memory to the days when I was getting ready to leave the safe confines of South Bay suburbia for the unique environs of UC Berkeley. Each of this year's seniors had plenty of shared experiences that they'd enjoyed with their friends, and listening to them reminisce reminded me of how much more significantly sheltered and shallow I used to be when I was their age.
A while ago, I flipped through my senior year yearbook from MVHS. Amidst the old photos and articles, I read through the notes and comments from friends and classmates. The profoundly depressing thing was that 98% of the comments I received were about: 1) my scholatic ability (i.e. "We were in all the same AP classes... you're a smart guy... good luck at Berkeley, don't become a hippie!") or 2) my love for sports (Warriors, Giants, etc.). Even looking at the memory book the youth group put together for me (as they did for all the graduating seniors), I could detect another two common themes: 1) how tall I was (I was relatively tall during high school, too bad I just stopped growing) and 2) my goody-two-shoes nature in Sunday School (memorizing verses and the like - this was what I thought being a Christian was about at the time).
From page to page, I could sense some deep-seated regrets in me rising to the surface... being so insular as to not take advantage of having friends... investing overly much in studies rather than people... sure, it's not like high schoolers will necessarily be all that deep in their sharing, but the cold fact was that I had a significant lack of memories and experiences with friends. More than that, because human beings are by nature social creatures, I was also somewhat behind in my own journey of self-discovery and striving for personal depth due to my inability to relate well with other people. I was remembered for some very shallow things, and that depressed me.
I like to think that I've grown some since that time. Learned some things about myself, who I am and who I am not. Did my best to build some friendships and invest in people. More than anything, I've had the blessing of meeting Jesus and turning myself over to Him to be shaped into the unique Christ-follower He initially created me to be. I hope that if I'm to be remembered for anything, that would be it.
Two Sundays ago, as the youth group shared memories, thoughts and laughs together, I breathed a quiet prayer for those seniors - glad that they had the chance to be remembered by their friends for who they are and what they've done. But more than that, I hope that in the coming years they will gradually know more and more the One who brings meaning to life, and that they would be remembered for that faith over any other memory.
posted by Bob at
7:00 PM
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