Yesterday (Thursday) at 3:30pm, I had a speech due for my public speaking class. It was only 1-2 minutes, had no grading criteria (just that I do it and pass), and the prompt was simply to introduce myself… but I found myself feeling tense through that whole morning and afternoon. I stumbled through rehearsing my outline - written that very day - while pushing through several minor yet acutely nagging physical discomforts. The end result was worth it.
As I stood before my classmates and began to speak, the anxiety melted away, and I had already realized from hearing their speeches that my words could encourage them. Several admitted uncertainty for what they want to do with their life, and regret for past choices. A few expressed an interest in serving their community, or related how seeing third world nations opened their eyes and compelled them to do something.
I chose to share the meaning of my full name: Taylor Charles Lewis, roughly translated to ‘he who cuts, and is manly, and is famous at war.’ I posed the question, “How can a gentle, home-loving introvert be expected to live up to that name?”
Looking back at my childhood, I had a fascination for any story with an adventure… and as I’ve grown, life seems more and more like an adventure. For as much as we try to figure out who we are and what we will do, we honestly don’t know. When my parents had to drag me to youth group 7 years ago and I swore I would never enter it again once I turned 18, I did not anticipate I would be an involved and employed member of said church. Or more recently, when I thought I knew my career path for what is safe and makes use of my primary talents, I could not foresee how my plans would collapse and a new opportunity to receive missions training in Africa would fall on my lap because of it, for however that will guide the course of my future.
I told the class we don’t always know, and that’s okay. It’s what makes life an adventure, if we choose to enjoy it that way. And admittedly, I’m really not who you would expect to be a sword-swinging, manly warrior dude… but the best stories involve an unlikely hero, who is willing to give himself to something greater than his own self.
Now, my classmates clapped enthusiastically and I could see the respect in their eyes. I connected with them through my story, and for that I am glad. I found out that I have several spiritual siblings in my class-- one who was a missionary kid in Thailand, and another who sat beside me this whole time and traveled to the Dominican Republic. I am grateful.
I don’t know if the demographic of my class is skewed, whether by those who willingly embrace public speaking, or by socio-economic background, or by random chance… but I see a peculiar quality somewhere among my generation, offering both hope and challenge.
Hope, because my peers are growing increasingly disillusioned with wealth, reputation, and even marriage (for better and worse). We’re ambitious and longing to take action, yet the American dream and Disney happy ending are losing their grip, causing millennials to look to a global stage for the promise of impact and purpose. I can share a glimpse of my testimony and interest in missions, while still effectively connecting with the religious nones.
Challenge, because although my generation is captivated by the idea of living for a purpose larger than themselves, they still carry heavy shackles against that earnest endeavor. We’re still individualistic by nature; contributing to community is nice so long as it makes us feel meaningful and leaves a lasting legacy, but we won’t serve beyond the limit of obligation, or ever sacrifice our distinct identity for the collective whole. We’re fired up for every noble cause which yields rewarding results... yet numb to the day-by-day need for personal integrity, or the thankless task of guarding rational truth.
The answer is God’s glory, and God’s glory alone. Human compassion will give way to weariness, whether it’s for starving children or lost souls. Social activism, absent of a pure heart rooted in divine reason, will cave in on itself. Only the unchanging, unending zeal for seeing Yahweh honored - as He always deserved, and created us to accomplish from the beginning - will endure the race. When my generation understands this, they will not only be passionate for participating in a story larger than their own… but we will also be radiant, Spirit-filled servants and leaders capable of carrying it out, so that blessings will flow through all nations and glory will return to its rightful reigning King.
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