“The cross is laid on every Christian. The first Christ-suffering which every man must experience is the call to abandon the attachments of this world. It is that dying of the old man which is the result of his encounter with Christ. As we embark upon discipleship we surrender ourselves to Christ in union with His death—we give over our lives to death. Thus it begins; the cross is not the terrible end to an otherwise god-fearing and happy life, but it meets us at the beginning of our communion with Christ.

When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die. It may be a death like that of the first disciples who had to leave home and work to follow Him, or it may be a death like Luther’s, who had to leave the monastery and go out into the world. But it is the same death every time—death in Jesus Christ, the death of the old man at his call.”–Dietrich Bonhoeffer The Cost of Discipleship

I recently had an epiphany; I mean a straight up Jesus moment, a glimpse of undeniable truth beyond myself. I realized that I had been fooling myself all this time. I had been talking like I am called to do great things for Christ: fight the hypocrisy, restore love in the church, and lead the church.Based on my talents, abilities, and personality this seemed completely correct, even divinely ordained. 

But my intentions were so deceived that it took a divine oracle to smack me back to reality.

Most people don’t want to be that guy: the guy in the lime light, the martyr for the cause, the one ridiculed for what was right, the one destined for greatness whether through suffering or a blessed ministry. I am not most people; my greatest fear is that I won’t be that guy. In a sense, my fear would be that I would toil for the Lord, and all people would remember, or not remember, of the ministry I did for the Lord would be an unmarked tombstone. 

I could not settle for this. I am way too talented, way to sold out for Christ, way to charismatic, way too useful to have a mediocre role in the kingdom. Then the Lord woke me up. I was at Fido’s with a very good friend. I had treated him to coffee because he was stressed from some stuff, and I was there for advise and so he could vent.Not but 10 minutes into all that he went straight up into a mini revival. He said that it was preaching to himself, but I was deeply convicted. 

Aside from having my theology completely restructured in a period of an hour, I also realized truly how “not sold out” I was to Christ. The Lord asked me, “Are you content with an unmarked grave?” I wasn’t. I duked it out with the Holy Spirit all the way back to campus. I fought so hard, and struggled within myself, and then…I let it go. Who am I? I am a servant. I am here for the sole purpose of whatever He has planned for me.

“Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
    the days that were formed for me,
    when as yet there was none of them.”–Psalm 139:16:

It’s like I heard John Piper say in a seminar once, “True Christianity means I must be willing at any given time, on any given day, under any set of circumstances to leave it all and die.”

And I realized that I had been liberated from too much, and was too convinced of the power of the cross, and too burdened by the darkness that ensnared the people around me to quibble with God over the particulars of my ministry. I decided to be content with an unmarked grave.

Thus it begins; the cross is not the terrible end to an otherwise god-fearing and happy life, but it meets us at the beginning of our communion with Christ.