An Unfinished Story

Phil Bishop,
Exercise Physiology,
University of Alabama

“So what’s my story?”

That question came to mind when I was reading Donald Miller’s book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years (Nelson). I really liked the book, chiefly because its message is practical for us as faculty.

Miller uses the metaphor of editing a movie about his life to remind readers that we all write our stories with each decision we make. Although this sounds obvious, Miller points out that few of us along the way give serious consideration to this simple concept. Even as I was reading, I reflected on my own story.

My Movie

Not surprisingly, the scenes that would make my movie are really significant events:
• College
• Marrying Brenda
• The birth of our kids
• Mission trips with Christian faculty
• Conversations (mostly religious) with family members and students
• Baptizing several of my children
• Seeing a grad student go from drug dependence to Christ-likeness.

It was what would not make the list that surprised me:
• My first peer-reviewed paper
• A big NIOSH grant that got me promoted to full professor
• My first book (Only one, but it sounds more impressive this way)
• Teaching awards
• Consulting with NASA

Now maybe the latter would make it into the sequel. Still, it was surprising to realize what scenes would be left on the cutting room floor.

If you have not reached my reflective and wizened age, you have more time to evaluate your own story, because there’s still time to add new scenes. Adventure, conflict, overcoming obstacles, a valiant struggle against long odds, and self-sacrifice, are all elements of good stories. How do we faculty members bring these into our stories?

During my early years in academia I was really helped in this by Rae Mellichamp and other successful senior faculty who modeled the life of a Christian professor. They were excellent in their teaching and research, and they pursued personal ministry in the time God gave them.

A Happy Ending

A similar commitment in my own life has led to some significant ministry opportunities. I have been able to share my testimony with scores of students at home, at professional conferences and on international trips.

Don Miller suggests that stories ought to end with a celebration, and that nothing says celebration better than a wedding and a feast. Thankfully our stories all have that happy ending, the wedding and the feast, the wedding of the Lamb.

So what’s your story? What are you doing as a faculty member that will make it into your movie?

© 2010 Phillip A Bishop

It’s Not Natural, Lord!

Samuel E Matteson
Physics,
University of North Texas

[March 28, 2010]—

Jesus pronounced some commandments that sometimes I wish He had not. Like doing good to those who want to harm you – loving your enemies.

“That’s just not natural,” I say to myself. God seems to respond: “Precisely!”

My dilemma comes not from this abstract God-love. I can “turn the other cheek” in theory without a stretch. But in the real life of the university?

Loving Fred

For example, I have found it hard to feel any generosity or love toward my personal nemesis – we’ll call him “Fred.” He is a colleague on campus who I feel has sought ways to belittle me, to harm my interests, and to misrepresent my actions to others.

Feelings of animosity continually creep into my heart and I confess to succumbing to human emotion of schadenfreude, the sordid pleasure felt in someone else’s misfortune. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” I think sarcastically. Not very noble to be sure, but what could be more natural?

Lately I am increasingly convicted of my reaction. I bump up against inconvenient Biblical exhortations like Paul’s admonition: “Do not be conformed to the world any longer, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” This devastates my dodge that “it’s only natural.” Such evasion no longer works.

I am found out.

It Can Be Painful

If God is in me shaping my character to look like His, then His Holy Spirit must do some renovation. And as every HGTV fan knows, renovation often means demolition. I feel now that my soul is a hard hat zone with a sign reading “Caution! God at work!”

It can be painful. I have prayed for Fred in the past, but my petition was, “Please, Lord, get this jerk out of my life.” More than three times I asked for the removal of my “thorn in the flesh.” But God answered—“No, not now.” I feel ashamed of myself for such petty irritation and animosity.

Easter reminds me graphically that Jesus loved and forgave despite very real and infinitely more painful insults. Indeed, the Bible tells me that God loves with an unselfish, redemptive love even those in sinful rebellion, including me and Fred. I rejoined, “but God is different; He is holy; He is perfect,” until the words “Be ye perfect, even as I am perfect” sunk into my consciousness.

As unnatural as it may be, I am compelled to pray that Fred will prosper and that any pain in his life prompting his incivility and destructive behavior will abate. In the process my own heart will change, exchanging animosity for a gracious and sincere love for him. I now pray for new eyes of grace to see him as God sees him. I resolve not only to tolerate Fred but to love him as Christ loves me, but indeed it still is unnatural.

I am reminded of my renovation by stickers on products that proclaim “100% natural.” Perhaps the work God’s Spirit is doing in me may one day feel “100% natural.” Until then I have decided daily to give God a building permit and let Him work.

© 2010 Samuel E Matteson

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