Thoughts on Discipleship (2): Darcy
Just a few months after beginning my new adventure as Elisa’s disciple, my roommate and I decided to quit the solo Christian act and actually attend a Campus Crusade for Christ meeting. We’d begun hanging around Crusade (CRU) circles, and over and over I’d heard the name Darcy mentioned. Apparently this woman named Darcy was every girls’ hero. She seemed to have “discipled” (the word now rolled right off my tongue without any effort) innumerable girls and was the stellar pick of the group.
Once again, I marvel at my roommate’s and my willingness and eagerness to jump in with both feet. At our very first CRU meeting (at which, I might mention, Jeff Patterson was the emcee and I remember thinking “That’s the kind of guy my mom would want me to marry.”), we heard the announcement for the annual Cove Palisades trip. Without hesitation, we both signed up to go (now you couldn’t get me to go camping with a bunch of strangers if my life depended upon it…sad how we change with age). I can still see the expression on Darren Holland’s face when we went to sign up. Now I can read his thoughts, “Wow, this is your first time here and you’re signing up for the trip! Awesome!” He was delighted.
As we picked up our bags and got ready to leave, a little wide-eyed, curly-haired, doll-faced girl came up to me. “Are you Kari?” She asked. My eyes were wide. How did she know me? “Yeah,” I said cautiously. “Oh! I once had a horse named Kari!” She said with enthusiasm bubbling over. I nodded slowly. She continued, “I’m Darcy. It’s nice to meet you.” Aha! This was Darcy. I relaxed and held out my hand, wondering again why she’d singled me out. We chatted for a moment, then I was off. There were only a few more weeks until the end of school, so I headed off for the summer without much more connection with her, although she asked for my home address…
Later that summer, a letter arrived in the mail. A five or six page letter (again?!), from Darcy. Apparently she knew, like Elisa, that openness and vulnerability is the name of the game, because she too shared her whole testimony with me, including her long struggle with an eating disorder and the victory she’d found in Christ. I was amazed, once again, at her honesty and humility, and found myself shaking my head wondering, “Why me? Why would she single me out?” As he letter ended she suggested to me that I pray about leading a Bible study the following year. Me? Lead a Bible study! I’d only started attending! What did I have to offer? I’d only just heard about “disciple” being a verb and now I was supposed to start “discipling”? THough it scared me a bit, something inside me knew this was exactly the direction I was supposed to take…
Thoughts on Discipleship (1): Elisa
This coming Monday I have the joy of teaching a class on Women’s Discipleship at Multnomah. As I’ve been praying, brainstorming, and recollecting, I’ve been blessed remembering the women who have taught me to so much through their lives poured out. My dear friend, Caila Murphy, has shared her thoughts as well, as I asked for her input from her own experience. Over the next few days I’ll post what stands out to me–the stories, the lessons, the pitfalls to avoid. I pray it can be helpful.
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I remember the first time I heard the word disciple used as a verb. I’d grown up in a Christian home, had gone to church all my life, and knew the basic Bible stories and why Jesus died on the cross. I knew that there were Jesus’ disciples, and I knew that as Christians we were in a sense called to be Christ’s disciples. But my freshman year of college, when I finally began to grow in my walk with God and fall in love with HIm as my Lord and Savior, I heard a girl in Bible study mention that she was “discipled” by so-and-so. Hm? Discipled? What does that mean, I thought. I love looking back at my precious freshman faith. I was so eager to grow and learn I was like a sponge. I’d recently broken off a long-term relationship and felt like I was a brand new baby in the Lord: Everything was new. I began reading my Bible constantly, naively talking to drunken frat guys about Jesus (!), and inviting girls in my dorm to the little “Bible study” my roommate and I began (most of the girls who attended probably weren’t even believers…even better!). So, when I heard that there was apparently some sort of “discipling” taking place that I knew nothing about, I wanted to do it too!
I deduced from her explanation that discipling basically meant being mentored in the things of the Lord, being helped along on one’s journey in Christ. That made sense. So, I figured that whoever discipled me (as she called it) should be someone that I wanted to be like, since that’s kind of what mentoring is, right? I mean Jesus’ disciples’ goal was to be like Him. Well after scoping out the possibilities, I decided that Elisa Smith was the one I wanted to be. Amazingly godly, stunningly gorgeous (I know, shallow me), and she loved her husband and three children admirably. Yes, I want to be like her, I thought. I hardly knew her at all, had probably only talked to her once in my life, but I quickly decided to give it a shot. I wrote her a letter that basically went something like this:
Dear Elisa,
I heard about this cool thing called “discipling”. Will you “disciple” me? I’d really appreciate it. Thanks.
Love, Kari.
That was pretty much it. I’m sure she thought I was crazy. But about a week later I received a letter back from her, explaining that she would be honored, blessed, and delighted to “disciple” me, but only under one condition. Only if we would be friends. She wanted to just be my friend, and then see how the discipleship part would play out as God saw fit.
I was stunned. My friend? She wanted to be my friend? Beautiful, godly, mature Elisa wanted to be my friend? Well I’ll be! I was already getting more than I bargained for. I happily wrote her back and said thank you and yes please and oh yes I would do whatever she wanted. Since we lived 1.5 hours away, getting together regularly posed sort of a problem, but again she wasn’t concerned. She said God would work out the details in time. I thought about this. Lesson #1.
Within a few weeks she wrote me a letter, about a five or six page letter, all hand-written, sharing her life-story with me. Once again, I was stunned. She was perfect, right? But her story revealed pain, heartache, struggle, failure. You mean she wasn’t perfect? You mean her story was really just one of God’s amazing redemptive grace? Lesson #2. And she was willing to be honest and humble and vulnerable with me? Already? She was willing to let me see her imperfections, to open her life up to me? She was basically opening her arms, allowing me to step inside the sphere of her life if I wanted. She was inviting me to do the same, to open up my life, to reveal the wounds, the pain, the imperfections. Perhaps, I thought, perhaps God could write such a story with my life too. Perhaps He could. Perhaps He would. Lesson #3.