I can’t tell if I write about theology or if this has suddenly become a travel blog, but let me fill you in on my last weekend in Scotland. My wife and I (along with John and Logan from this blog) made our way up to Scotland for a few days to catch up and experience some culture. We took the train up to Edinburgh (pronounced like Ed-in-bruh and not like Pittsburgh) and got to stay in a flat that was roughly 40 feet away from the main part of the city. I had my first experience of Haggis, and it was pretty good! (I tried it before they told me what it was) Both John and Logan had been there before, so they showed us around. This meant a lot of Harry Potter destinations, coffee, whisky, castles, old churches, and a very steep hike where we overlooked the whole city.
After sprinting through the station in Weasley fashion, we narrowly caught a train headed to St Andrews. Both John and Logan are alumni of the university, so they took us around to all of their favorite spots. From the “Chariots of Fire” beach to the place where golf was invented to yet another freaking castle and cathedral, everything was breathtaking. We even walked out on this old stone pier as John told us about all of the traditions of the University and town. With the waves crashing, and all of us taking goofy pictures, it was here where this thought struck me,“This could have been me.”
Almost two-and-a-half years ago, I had gotten accepted to St Andrews. The offer came two days before I was to graduate and I was ecstatic. I called up Logan and told him that I would be coming along with him as we both would start our Master’s together. On that pier, last weekend, all of these scenes flashed before me. I was there studying at the quaint coffee shop, or grabbing haggis nachos (they are seriously amazing). This beautiful town was supposed to be where I lived.
Yet, God had another plan. After that acceptance letter, God proceeded to close literally every door. I couldn’t figure out loans in time, didn’t have enough money for the deposit, didn’t know anything about applying for visas and I only had a month to figure it out. It was a really hard to see my dream school slipping away from me. It was harder to accept that God had something different. And that something different had arrived on the same day that I got my acceptance letter.
That night I went on my second date with the woman I would marry. God was working even then, directing me and forming me into the person He wanted me to become. I got to go to Talbot which I would jokingly call the “St Andrews of the West.” It was there that I discovered my passion for the Old Testament and grew closer to God by taking spiritual formation courses. I got serve at a great church who became my family. And I got married to my best friend with whom I get to travel the world. God even let me go to Durham for a PhD where he quite literally opened every door and even pushed me through some!
This isn’t some Job story where God takes away everything just to give it back to you twofold. He doesn’t always work in that way. Sometimes, you don’t get anything back. And this is not a story about just accepting your terrifying circumstances because it’s God’s will. There are evil and despairing situations that the gospel of Jesus Christ demands be changed, and the Church should be the first ones to get to work on them. No, the point is that in that moment on the pier I was not content with where God has me. In contrast to God’s faithful generosity in which he provided me all of these things, I was still dreaming of walking through a door he closed a long time ago. And why? Perhaps it’s because I am afraid that I don’t belong here, or that I am going to fail, or any number of insecurities I have.
So often our fears and uncertainties in the present can make us forget the faithfulness of God in the past. We forget all that he has done and crazily we wish for an alternative history or a parallel universe. So easily we can imagine ourselves doing anything else than what God has called us to; anything else but trusting God. Spending that day in St Andrews made me think, “this could have been me,” and it really could have been. But it wouldn’t have been truly me. It would have been Brandon who went to St. Andrews, not Brandon who went to Talbot, who worked at a great church. It wouldn’t have been the Brandon who got married to Brittany. It wouldn’t have been the Brandon that God wanted me to me.
I guess the lesson that I learned while in St Andrews was that God was faithful then, so He will be faithful now. Armed with this, I can trust in the Lord in spite of all of my fears. I can be faithful to my calling by reflecting on God’s faithfulness to me. And I can smile at God and thank him for taking me down the scenic route to St Andrews.
Leave a Reply
Your email is safe with us.