My contentment in my faith was nice and calm. I was a freshman in college, ready for exciting new experiences, and I was focused on my own being and how I could officially become myself. This sounds normal; however, I was intent on becoming myself by my own means. Prayer was a way of fixing my problems whenever they arose, and church seemed a dreadful way to spend a perfectly good free day. The Bible sat gracefully upon my nightstand, and all who entered would think it was a part of my nightly ritual to read a couple of Scriptures before bed and then lazily drift off into a healthy Christian sleep. All of these things were me, and I was them, and I am now ashamed of such complacency and passivity toward God the Father.
On the first day of college, I started out in my general psychology class. Next to me, a very short Korean girl sat down, her eyes searching the room, her calming demeanor awaiting Dr. Kathy Howard to begin so that she could hear her very first college lecture. She did not say much to me, only a little bit of small talk here and there. Then the bell rang, and before I walked out of the room, very ready to get a bite to eat, a small voice arose in my direction, asking me if I was going to lunch. I hesitantly answered her with a “yeah,” and she asked if she could join. We spent lunch together with my roommates, and from that day on, she has been one of the greatest gifts from God.
Never had I had a friendship based on Christ. Never had I realized just how real God is. Never had I cared. My friend’s example called me closer, her willingness to listen to my struggles, my heartaches and then her willingness to share her own — it all rang so loudly. It rang clearly of God. She displayed kindness and devotion and showed me the reality that is God. Her humility and selflessness opened my eyes, helping me create a cleaner slate in order for me to begin reforming myself. I saw her, and I wanted to have those traits for my own; I wanted to melt them into my heart, and I wanted to do it for the sake of God, because I had finally realized just how much I loved Him and how much He loved me.
It was a gradual thing. I grew up always knowing God was somewhere around, somewhere listening, judging and would totally accept me into heaven in the end regardless of my decisions. I manipulated God — attempted to, anyway — and, in turn, manipulated my own self. My friend was someone God knew I needed. He knew that I learned best from seeing potential “me’s.” I see who I can be, and that drives me to become that very form of myself. But I was seeing the wrong potentials, and whenever my friend came into my life, she held on tight. God used her to transform “Haley the Hollow” into “Haley the Whole.”
Nights spent praying, moments passed crying, minutes of struggling, days of complaining, hours of sighing, years of heavy breathing … all changed so drastically. He’s where I get my inspiration for living. I heard Him while people sang and read about Him everywhere. Suddenly, He appeared in letters from friends, in the undertones of sadness, underlying the quiet struggles of illness. He’s in between lines of poetry; He rings through funeral bells; He shines through each slit in the blinds; He follows the wings of each soaring creature, dancing on every violin string. He is music. He is heaven. He is love. He is mine.
