March 1st, 2009, my 21st birthday, passed without much of an incident. I had a small celebration with my family and a couple friends from around the Indianapolis area. I didn't go out partying like many of my generation do on their 21st. I had a beer, visited with my friends, and went to sleep- coherent.
Also in March, I received a letter from Patrick Henry College saying that I was accepted on probationary status. The acceptance letter did not flatter me in the slightest; it listed the strengths that they perceived me to have, but it also listed the criteria for my probationary status. Due to rather poor grades in high school, I was told that I was not allowed to be involved in any extra-curricular activities and that I had to enroll in a peer mentoring (tutoring) program. I was not thrilled, but I pursued the option, largely due to my wonderful mother's promptings.
Two things happened that changed my mind. The first was that I received a letter from the Financial Aid director that detailed the amount I needed to come up with in order to attend school. I am firmly against going into debt but the amount needed after all of the generous scholarships and financial assistance made attendance of PHC financially reasonable. The second thing that changed my mind was my visit to Patrick Henry during the final week of classes. I was pleasantly surprised by the campus, students, and faculty that I interacted with. The visit opened my stubborn mind to the idea of attending Patrick Henry College.
As a few of you might know, in addition to all of this, I had applied to be a Fishers (IN) police officer in December of 2008. I progressed through the various physical tests and written examinations. I passed the interview panel and was selected as one of ten candidates for the eight positions that would advance to the final hiring stages. Two more candidates were to be cut from the group.
All that was left was the decision between the two options of becoming a police officer or attend Patrick Henry. I desired both for different reasons but acknowledged that I ultimately was not in control of the situation. I committed the matter to the Lord in prayer and asked that His will would be done, and that I would accept it. Shortly thereafter, I received a phone call from the recruiting Sergeant of the police department. He informed me that because some of my military paperwork was still in Washington DC, the police department could not hire me that year. My application was filed away and the Sergeant asked me to apply for the job again when I got the paperwork sorted out. It was the answer I had been praying for.
Less than 2 weeks later I found myself hauling my goods down to North Carolina for the summer. In a recent conversation with my parents, I had the understanding that they were leaving for Kenya later that same month. I decided that the best thing to do was to vacate my part of the house earlier than all of them, so that everyone wasn't moving out at once.
My destination in North Carolina was Morganton. It is a small town in the foothills of western NC where my Dad pastored a PCA church for six years. I still knew some of the folks from the church but it had been at least eight years since I had been back. The Lord was taking me back to the South for His purpose.
I immediately went to work and worked all summer for a friend and her family, fixing up an old building. I was scraping paint, reconstructing windows, helping to install cabinets, pulling nails, and painting--- laughing, singing, and talking with my friend the entire time. It was for this purpose that God brought me to Morganton. I was challenged daily with hard theological issues, and each time I didn't know the answer. The questions were deep and sometimes irritating to my proud heart, but each time humility came when I turned to the Scriptures. I spent much of the summer laughing, but I spent much more of it beginning to uncover, by the grace of God, the man that He wants me to be. I decided to do what I had never done before, make a public confession of faith and become a member of a church. The pastor and the elders examined me, and later that same morning in July, in front of the congregation that knew me so well, my father (who had made the tiresome drive from Indiana the night before) witnessed my profession of faith.
The summer ended much too quickly. Once again I found myself in my truck, but this time I was heading north... The calender ordered me to, against my desires. Just kidding. Part of me wanted to go to school, but a part of me was at home in North Carolina. The cool mountain air was clean, the accents were Southern, the cookin was like Moms, and most importantly, the people were wonderful.
God brought me to Patrick Henry College. His hand has been upon my life, guiding me and providing for me. I have never had enough money for my tuition, even with all my scholarships, but for two semesters now God has provided the funds for me to attend this fine school. I did not stay on the probationary status any longer than I absolutely had to. At the end of last semester, my first set of college grades were better than any grades I received in high school. This is no boast, rather it is a proclamation of praise to my Father, and it is to Him that I give the glory!
So at the end of this 21st year, and the beginning of my 22nd.... I find it fitting that I am sitting at my desk with a mountain of homework due in the morning. It serves as a reminder that I have a job to do and a limited amount of time to do it in... Even in my limited amount of time and in the next year of my life may I magnify my Savior. For to Him be all glory, power and honor; May His name be praised.
In Christ,
Martyn
