Cedar Point unleashed their 17th roller coaster, "Maverick," this past spring. It's not the biggest ride in the park or the fastest but it's still unique. It features two drops, eight airtime-filled hills, one 400-foot-long tunnel, 10 banked turns, from 62 to 92 degrees, one of the steepest first drops on a roller coaster (95 degrees), first of its kind with what the park calls a "twisted horseshoe roll" and
two 360-degree corkscrew rolls.
My life in Kentucky has been a similar experience. With ups and downs, twists and turns and one-of-a-kind features. I've been thinking back a lot lately. I was just supposed to come here and get a degree ...
And so incline begins. I had big dreams. I desired fame and fortune. The American Dream. I soaked up as much as I could from my UK experience. There were sports and lots of it. Band practices and performances. Laughs and disappointments. Late night meals at Waffle House. Surprises at Denny's. There was homework, and the procrastination to go with it. There were temptations and I didn't do too well with those. But God never gave up on me. Somedays I think, I prayed and I sinned at the same time. Talk about being divided. Nevertheless, I found a church. I hid in the congregation. I heard Truth. I had friends. They kept me sane. They'll never know the impact. It would be a few years later that I realized that God was already redeeming what was lost. Some people may never know that they were saving a life.
And so the ride slowly goes over the initial hill. I graduated and planned to leave Lexington and head off to some major city. It didn't happen. With all the networking, the résumé and the portfolio, I ended up in the Bluegrass. I thought it was only temporary (allegedly). It lasted three years. I met a lot of great people -- more friends for the journey. I settled in church and began to get involved. My shattered identity was still killing me though. Maverick's first drop is 95 degrees, almost straight down. That's where I was headed. I remember coming home one night and said to God,"I can't do this without you."
And as we decline, the ride angle changes, we go down the hill and around a curve. My life began to changes direction. The healing began. Actually though, the seed was planted in college. But I wasn't ready. I wasn't willing to go deep enough. I wasn't ready to be exposed. Amazing how pain brings you to your knees.
And so I had to grow up. The ride flies up the hill. It comes down. Feel the air-time. Feel your weight shift with the banked turns. Smiles slowly show while upside down. I met men who were after God's heart. I saw men laugh, cry, curse and pursue God's face. I wanted the freedom to do those things. I heard the promise that I would hold on to that what God starts, He completes. I met God many times in that group. I was discipled during those years. The pieces were being put together. God introduced me to spiritual brothers and sisters. I wasn't alone after all. I saw people who journeyed into freedom. They pointed me to Jesus as they sat next to me.
The ride flies up the hill. It comes down. Feel the air-time. Feel your weight shift with the banked turns. Smiles slowly show while upside down. So a new hunger arose. I read the Bible. I completed studies. I prayed. I still struggled but there was hope. I saw the vision to "relocate." Remember, I was still heading to the big city -- I had a dream to make money and be comfortable. A year later I was at Asbury Seminary. Seminarians kept coming to our church. There was a connection. I somehow "got" them and felt like they "got" me. Go figure. Three years in Wilmore. Are you serious? Absolutely. I found community. Sometimes just praying with new friends on the sidewalk in the middle of the campus. I found brothers. I found sisters. I found healing; a crown of beauty for ashes. I found potential. I found vulnerability. I found the Word.
The ride enters a tunnel. It slows down. It's dark. There's some flashing lights. My time in the Dark Night/Desert Experience/Wildnerness. The place where I lost attachments. Time for a house cleaning. The temptation to leave ministry for good. Maybe I can just disappear in the darkness. But I'm strapped in the ride. I can't get off. God invited me to "come closer." The confrontation of a friend. God later spoke softly, "I love you too much to let you go." And so we come out of the tunnel. We come into the light. More twists, turns and hills. I confessed that He was God and I was not. He called me son. I took inventory and confessed my wrongs and those done to me. I asked God to remove my defects. I discipled others. I became the one to walk with people as I pointed them to Jesus. I became more intimate with Him. He feels jubilation for me. I learned to seek Him first and I'll get everything.
And so off to the West Coast. It won't be easy. God's been preparing me for this though for years. I can think back to those hills, twists, turns and those moments of being upside-down. It was seven and a half years ago that I confessed I needed God. I can look at how a Promise Keepers convention opened up a hunger for worship. I see how the small groups and one-on-one discipleship changed my life and now I get to help others and raise up leaders. There's contemplation -- inspired by a professor who glowed the peace and acceptance of Jesus, hanging out with the monks at the Abbey -- the simplicity of their voices, the harmony of silence and filled some holes in my soul. I can always get away to just listen. Working at a fitness club taught me to relate to others. It's 12 years of redemption. Experience after experience showed me that God absolutely works all things together for good.
The ride slows down. We're on our way back to the station, there's the whispers of "social justice" and "radical" as we come to a stop. It'll be interesting to see what I'll ride next and the people I'll sit beside. Even the people I'll talk to while I'm in line. But I can rest assure that what God starts, He completes. While the "Maverick" is unique, the name means one who acts independently from a group. While I'm headed for a "radical" new life, I'll ahve a community to wait in line with me and to enjoy the ride together.
