With all the resources out there these days, a young Christian–by the grace of God–can absolutely get their hands on some good, sound doctrine early on in their walk. Young Christians can find solid teachers to sit under and learn from, and the Bible can seep deep into baby Christian bones in a way that the picture of the New Testament church we see in scripture can come alive and shape that person’s heart for the body of Christ even in the earliest days of their walk.
What I would like to tell my young Christian self, is that despite all the truth your eyes are suddenly open to, and despite all the good teaching and great guidance from spiritual mothers and fathers coming your way,
one thing you lack,
is time.
Simply, time gone by. Experience. Days ticked by on the calendar.
Minutes and hours and years of walking with a body and witnessing all the many complexities, perspectives, and nuances that a young buck like myself just couldn’t possibly understand.
I didn’t understand.
Dear Young, Twenty-Something, Baby-Christian, Jess,
Welcome to the family of God.
Welcome to the local body the Lord himself chose for you. Those to your left, and those to your right, are your new brothers and sisters.
As you read your books and listen to your sermons and spend your time praying and seeking God’s will, there are some things I’d like to tell you.
First of all,
all of those people are going to fail you.
Much like yourself, each and every person you are walking with is dealing with something this week. And was dealing with something last week. And will be dealing next week too. Sin is crouching at their door. They will at some point be spread too thin. They will at some point be too tired. They will at some point or another be struggling in this thing, or that thing, or another. They may be losing hope in that relationship. They may be asking the Lord why, asking the Lord how, asking the Lord when.
Think of all the ways you’ve needed grace this week, and assume every person in every pew in every aisle around you needs just as much or even 100 times more.
Second.
The problem you have, that hurt you’re carrying, that wound you’re nursing,
can and will do more damage than you could ever imagine if you don’t quit gossiping to him and her under the guise of “sharing prayer requests” instead of going to one who has offended you.
You’ve got poison welling up inside you.
You’ve got sparks in your pockets and your beloved church is a pile of tinder.
Before you demand their head on a platter: Have. you. gone. to them?
?
Have you gone to your brother or sister that has hurt you, and have you sought ALL of the reconciliation Jesus offers you at the foot of His cross?
And while you think on that: Do you want reconciliation and total healing and glory brought to God, or do you want your feelings justified and your cause heard, and your offender served their sentence?
Young, Jessica Marie: there are so many ways to forgive and work it all out.
You will get one thousand chances to look like Christ and forgive when it is wildly undeserved. Please take all of them. I know–that sounds like it will suck, and it will. Please take those chances anyway.
Third.
You will need (daily) an ever softer heart, and an ever tougher skin.
Once you get into the trenches of the Lord’s work, you will be tempted to bitterness ore and ore again.
Remember this. Bitterness will keep your heart hard for sure.
And bitterness is deceiving in that you might think it’s the best way to good, tough skin, but there is a better way. Bury yourself in Christ instead, and be sure you get all your security, all your joy, and all your confidence in Him. Do this, and things just won’t be able to rock you like they otherwise could.
It is true, that words will always cut. Words will find their way in for the rest of your life. This is hard, and will always be hard.
But literally, for the love of God–do every thing in your power to avoid becoming someone who is forever offended.
This will save you countless sleepless nights.
Fourth.
It’s come to my attention, unfortunately, at the ripe old age of 34–that you are a part of a generation that is in the business of “canceling” people for not being God.
Hear me, in love:
Not one of those spiritual giants on your leadership team is God.
And read that again.
If you’ve put them on a pedestal (you have), kindly take them down.
Refrain from demanding perfection from them.
Remember it is of your own doing if you’ve made them a god–and they cannot be held responsible for this impossible standard you’re trying to pin them to.
If your teacher, deacon, group leader, elder, pastor has wronged you–there are biblical processes for that. Good processes, that can keep a church from ripping right down the center aisle.
Tell all your friends.
Consider that it’s possible that you and some in your generation don’t have the spiritual maturity yet to let grace pump your breaks. Don’t join the culture around you in demanding blood now. Remember you’ve gotten blood–in Christ–already–it’s yours. This should, at minimum, slow your roll when demanding others are held accountable for all they’ve done. This should steer you clear of clamoring for a swift and certain punishment.
There is so much room inside grace.
Certainly, there is at least time to slow down. To allow sinners to process, to confess, to repent, to grow.
And fifth.
To the young version of myself,
to the twenty-something, passionate, “I’m-new-to-this-but-I’m-pretty-sure-I’ve-got-it-all-figured-out” version of myself:
It is normal that you are longing for righteousness. It is normal that you are looking for it everywhere. You need it.
In the words of Matthew Henry, “We are undone, without righteousness wherein to appear before God, for we are guilty.”
But you will not find it in the members of your church. So stop shredding them apart looking for it. And you won’t be able achieve it, no matter how many theology books, or secret, selfless acts, or grand holy accomplishments you stack on top of each other.
The righteousness you need is in Christ alone. It’s through faith, in what He’s done.
Rest in that.
Love, Jess.
The 34-year-old Jess. The slightly more tired Jess. The Jess that has gotten a little glimpse behind some leadership scenes, and worked through tearful conflicts, and nursed a hundred broken hearts that were all her own. The Jess that has seen church numbers rise and fall, and seen pastors crucified, and seen the wisdom of the Bible work perfectly and beautifully.
The Jess who has watched members come and go because they felt unseen or unloved.
The Jess who has been a member who has felt unseen and unloved, and the Jess who has been a member who failed to see others, and love others.
So take it from me:
Give your church some grace.
and by the way, dang near everyone in my generation and the one after it is mad at somebody for not reaching out to them.
We’ll come and go before you even know we’ve slipped into the back row and it’s true that often times with out a warm, welcoming reception and a genuine, almost instant feeling of “inclusion,” we’ll dip. On to the next. Who wants to be my friend?
Jess Davis 