Ghosts of High Schools Past

Today I went and guest spoke in an apologetics class full of high school seniors. Specifically high school seniors at my own alma mater Metro.

Did I prepare anything? No. The way I figured, I don't really have anything particularly insightful to share, so if the Lord had the audacity to stick me in a classroom full of  preppy 18 and 19 year olds then he also has the audacity to stick an hour's worth of words in my mouth. 

I can't say that the power of the Lord filled the room and all spoke in tongues, but I can say I had their attention by the end of my talk.

We went through several subjects, like my belief in the power of ordinariness, but they also wanted to talk about authenticity and relationship building. It was that particular answer that shocked them.

I brought into the conversation my aforementioned idea of failure vs. not yet able to succeed in relation to building deep relationships. Some people in high school (myself included) straight up aren't in a place where they are ready to or know themselves enough to make deep friendships or conversation.

And that's okay.

Then, they said that one of the main reasons why they would shy away from "big talks" is that other people might think they're weird, to which I replied, "high school doesn't matter." (you gotta make sweeping statements to snap out snobby snoozers).

But really, my point was (and don't worry. I expounded the point with them as well) that they're seniors. That means, they've got four and a half months left with people that they will probably never have significant interaction with again.

That means, it doesn't freakin' matter if they think you're weird and honestly, in the  future, they will look back at your boldness and security in self and be not only impressed but a little wistful that they hadn't started living their lives earlier.

Joining Winter Guard (the most socially unacceptable move I made in high school hands down) was the first step I ever made in embracing my weirdness, flaunting it even. In a blue spandex onesie. I joined without knowing anybody, got made fun of by everybody, and I still look back and see that it was the most fun I had in school and am still thrilled I did it.

So I told them, they have a question to ask themselves: Deep down, do I really want (am I ready to) to live for me or do I really want to live for God?

If the answer is truly "me," then keep on walking down that journey of selfishness and shallowness. You wouldn't be able to hear God even if he tried to talk to you.

BUT, if the answer is "God," then those social things will stop mattering. He honors the requests of those who really do want to learn how to love him better and live out of their true selves. It takes work. And pain. And isn't socially acceptable or fun at times, but it's satisfying.

You can be good on your own. Good at activities, good at social-ness, good at life, really. But you can't be great. And it won't satisfy.

I left them with that option. They can either continue conforming to the social strata that they've set for themselves, or they can start living and creating and having fun fearlessly being themselves now.