I’ve always known people who struggle with who they are and what they are supposed to do. I’ve known friends and family who let the wind carry them through life because they aren’t grounded in who they are, what they want to do, or what they even believe to be true. Throughout life we find friends, and sometimes those friends become family. We see their victories and their defeats; sometimes, those defeats break us more than they break them.
I had a friend like this, who I practically grew up with, until his family moved when I was ten years old. However, the move didn’t keep our families apart. Our families made an effort to go camping every summer at different campgrounds–rain or shine. While I looked forward to these trips, my friend Kyle consistently seemed more distant every year. He was never content with where he was. He wouldn’t play games with us, he didn’t talk to us, he didn’t even look up from his phone during meals. Our childhood was behind us: the friendship was gone–lost in a gaping chasm.
My frustration with him escalated every time I saw him. He would rage after losing a game, refuse to do anything he didn’t want to do, and would never listen to his parents. He wasn’t pleasant to be around, so we stopped inviting him to join us. While it was infuriating for us, I had no idea how broken Kyle was. He always went along with what his friends said and did. He had his sights set on movie production, then on music production. From one college to the next, then from one job to another, he floated from one thing to the next like driftwood tossed by the ocean waves.
But a couple of years ago, that all changed. I remember sitting on my couch reading a book when my little sister burst into the room. Kyle had accepted Christ as his Savior.
I had always heard stories about other people whose lives turned around because of the Gospel, but I had never witnessed it myself. I had never seen the black to white transformation of someone’s life until Kyle. He dropped out of school, came home, and immediately got involved in the church. Since I lived states away from him and his family, I only saw this change from a distance, not realizing how drastic it was. That is . . . until Hurricane Helene gave me the opportunity to spend time with him and his family.
The change in Kyle’s life astonished me. While he’s still unemployed and does not have it all together, his demeanor radiates with the Holy Spirit. The joy he has reminded me daily of the power of the Gospel. The wind was blowing him around, but God anchored him. God radically changed his life in so many ways.
Sunday, we talked theology–something my sisters and I had never talked about with him before. Kyle has family members who have rejected Jesus as the Messiah, but he discusses their beliefs with them, quoting Scripture from the Old Testament about the New Covenant his grandparents have now rejected. He knows what he believes, why he believes it, and defends it in the midst of doubt thrown his way. I walked away from those conversations refreshed and encouraged instead of worn out and depressed.
While life is definitely not easy for him, and he’s still unsure about what he wants to do, Kyle is now anchored in our Savior, which has changed him forever. He praises where he complained, asks where he demanded, and serves where he dominated. The Gospel doesn’t make us perfect, nor does it eradicate all our problems. However, God gives joy in the middle of sorrow and gives peace in the middle of storms. We so easily allow storms to control our lives, we give in to the waves that tower over us, and let surging winds knock us down. But God gives us peace in the storms, shelters us from the waves, and anchors us in the wind.