Fearfully & Wonderfully Me

It’s almost 10 (at night), and I’m writing this from a missionary training center on the outskirts of Bangkok. I need to hurry it up because the internet shuts off at 11, and if I don’t finish this by then, I probably won’t finish it all.

As you might know, Megan and I have been on a bit of an unusual journey over the past five or so months. To sum it up in anything less than an epic poem seems unjust, so I’m not even going to try. I’m just going to write about the here and the right now.

We’re going to be back in America in three days and we essentially have no idea what we’re doing when we get back. We’ve got some glimpses and maybe a sneak peek or two, but definitely not the whole trailer, and certainly not the movie. And it’s terrifying. Not because I’m worried about the practical things (yes, I am), but because I’m worried about going back and our lives being the same. I’m afraid of the embarrassment of having put myself in a place of vulnerability, only to have failed.

I’m afraid that I haven’t changed.

So I’ve been doing a lot of sitting around and thinking, or, as some people like to call it, reflecting. I’ve thought a lot about the person I was before this chapter of my life — the grad school drop-out in pursuit of a rewarding, is-this-really-work? career — and the person I’ve become, the person I’m in the process of becoming, and the person I was created to be. And I’ve come to realize the biggest separator between these me’s isn’t a job title, the amount of money in my bank account, or even where I live; it’s the things you might not see that define who I am.

Even if I do end up in the same place doing the same thing I was before, it’s not the same. It’s a new thing, because I’m a new thing. When Jesus gave His life for me and called me a new creation, He wasn’t throwing out Shane, He was revealing and giving me the freedom to be the real Shane — the Shane He created, the Shane who’s His workmanship, His poetry, and His adopted son. God’s plan for my life has as much to do with who He created me to be as it has to do with who He is, because He created me for purpose.

The purest fulfillment of my calling in life isn’t the pursuit of radical, outward expressions of what I think I should be doing; it’s simply being who I really am, who God says I am, whatever I’m doing and wherever I am.

“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.” — Ephesians 2:10