The power of our past

“This is heart wrenching!” I watched my aunt breath heavily, releasing the tears building up in her eyes so that they could roll down her beat red cheeks.

We all stood with our faces glued to the window, watching the small lights blinking in the black of night until we knew that his plane had launched into the air, its destination: Okinawa, Japan.

A lump had formed hard in my throat before I finally gave in to allowing my tears to freely fall. Two years is too long for a mother to go without seeing her son. Two years is such a long time for a brave young man to agree to spend in Japan. But the beautiful thing about my cousin, Will, is that he doesn’t think that way. He does not think selfishly, but selflessly knowing that his duty in life is simply to serve.

His life has not been easy, it’s been full of ups and downs, naturally as life contains highs and lows. But Will had every excuse in the book to grow up and be angry, bitter, numb. Beautifully, though, he turned into quite the opposite: a strong young man with a zest and love for life, for peace. 

Growing up, long stretches of highways and stop lights kept our families limited to the amount of visits shared together, but coming home and being able to spend time with him before he left, I grew to admire him so much. The last night before his plane left, I brought a bowl of cookie dough and asked him if he wanted to share some. Across the bar in my basement he sat and shared stories with me about his training. Getting a spoonful of cookie dough, he said, “I got my wisdom teeth out while I was off training.”

“Did they put you to sleep?” I said, leaning over the wood bar, on my tiptoes.

“No, but they gave me a few shots to numb my mouth.” He looked down at the cookie dough.

My mouth instantly dropped, “You were wide awake? Did you hear everything?”

He nodded calmly despite my dramatic response; “I heard them break my teeth so they could get them out. It wasn’t bad though. The worst part was pulling the gauze out myself and seeing the blood fill the sink.”

I cringed, pulling my shoulders towards my head, “Oh my gosh, I can’t even imagine! Did you get to rest?!”

“Yeah! And then, the next day I was back out and training. It really wasn’t bad.” He nonchalantly scooped up the last bit of cookie dough, a smile still present on his face.

I shook my head in disbelief, “Cheers to you,” I held up my cup of chocolate milk, knocking it against his empty cup. He laughed and walked off to get some rest. I threw the plastic spoons in the trashcan and walked towards my room.

Lying in bed that night, I was still so astounded at what Will had shared with me. How strong he was reminded me of how selfish I can be and I realized how quickly perspective can change after exchanging stories with someone who has seen and been places that you have never even been close to experiencing.

It took catching up with my cousin to slap me across the face and remind me that I am not here on this earth to simply live for myself. It is stories like this that touch the hearts of people and I literally had the opportunity to experience Jesus’ love simply by being with Will for two days.

Before we left the airport, my mom hugged my aunt, whispering, “He’s a good kid.”

My aunt nodded, “Yeah, he is.”  

Sacrifice is beautiful; it warms the heart, especially when the person being sacrificed for has done hardly anything to deserve the sacrifice.

There are so many who choose to stay comfortable, to turn down opportunities because they don’t want to miss out on time spent with their family or friends; because they don’t want to leave where they love. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my family and hate the thought of missing out an any time with them, but sometimes following your call is painful and utterly heart wrenching. Of course you are going to miss your family, you are going to hurt along the journey, but when I think about Will’s amazing opportunity, everything in me longs to step up. To hear people’s stories, go places I have never seen, do things I have never experienced. Why have we all reached the conclusion that the fullest life is sacrificing as little as possible and leaving your comfort zone a tolerable amount of times?

We need to be afraid, to feel urgency, to be excited and nervous. We need adventure, desperately; to trust what God has in store for us rather than thinking we can handle it. We need to say yes to that which we want to say no to, we need to do the unexpected, to do things for others in order to learn more about ourselves.

When I think about Will and who he has grown up to be, I swell with excitement and hope for the future. You see, our past has the power to make us bitter, or to change us for the better. Will took his disappointments and his painful memories and allowed them to shape him into someone who wanted to bring CHANGE. He allowed them to mold him into someone different. 

We have so much power, so much ability to change the things that we face, to affect others who are in low places where we have been. Instead, we complain, we become absorbed in ourselves and our own difficulties. Unaware of our power; what good will that do?