Breakfast at Tiffany’s: Fanfare or faithfulness?

Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. Philippians 2:5-8

Last Saturday was a day I had anticipated and dreamed of for years—my college graduation. It was a hard-fought achievement that had felt impossible at times and could only have been accomplished by the grace of God I constantly relied on. Through starting a business, dealing with the trauma of a grown child in addiction, and navigating a chronic neuromuscular autoimmune disease, I finally earned a bachelor’s degree in Christian Leadership from Liberty University’s School of Divinity—Magna Cum Laude (to my disappointment, my GPA only lacked two-tenths of a point to have been Summa Cum Laude). The commencement ceremony in Lynchburg, Virginia, was attended by thousands, graced with notable speakers and concluded with a gigantic fireworks and drone display. I couldn’t wait to share the pictures on social media so everyone could see me dressed in my regalia, donning my honors cord and displaying my degree.

There was only one problem. I wasn’t there. Yes, despite all the planning and excitement, I was forced to cancel our trip to Virginia. You see, that neuromuscular disease I mentioned and have written about before (Myasthenia Gravis) turned into a crisis that hospitalized me for five days back in March. My body has still not completely recovered from the exacerbation, and the smallest amount of stress, excitement, heat, acute illness, or muscle exertion can drain my batteries or throw me into a respiratory crisis. Therefore, traveling hundreds of miles for a non-stop, three-day culmination of walking, standing, crowds and excitement was out of the question.

I sat at home Saturday morning and noted as the time I was to attend the special degree ceremony came and went. Missing out on that public honor made me feel as though I really hadn’t earned anything, and that the degree sitting on my bedroom dresser was just a piece of paper. However, one of the ideas that was drilled into us in many of the Christian leadership classes at Liberty was that what we do for Christ is not about our own honor, glory, or pride. Even the accomplishment of earning a degree is meaningless if, as a minister of the gospel, they are only meant to stroke our pride or add more letters behind our name. As I studied, I constantly found myself praying that God would keep me from falling into the pride trap that so many leaders fall into. If this season of illness and having to miss an awards ceremony are things God chose to keep my heart humble and pure before Him, then I am satisfied and thankful.   

I knew that God had led me to Liberty University for a reason, and I had obeyed despite seemingly impossible odds, not to mention the bill. Though I often fretted and even cried over grades that fell below my high personal standards, the wise words of my then 12-year-old son still resound in my mind: “Mom, you’re not in college to get an A. You’re in college to learn, and if that is what you are doing, you are successful!” And learn, I did! Little did I know that the biggest lesson I would learn was the solidification of my son’s advice. 

I understand that with or without the fanfare of a commencement celebration, my degree is still as valid as those who walked across the stage dressed in fancy regalia and the thunderous sound of applause. Therein, the Lord has gently reminded me that obedience to Him rarely comes with applause, recognition, or thanks. On the contrary, it usually comes with great personal sacrifice and pain. That is the cost He chose to pay when he wrapped Himself in human flesh and walked on this earth. He made Himself nothing. He was despised and rejected. He carried our sorrows and was well acquainted with grief. Why? So we could be close to Him. Period.

Lord, teach us to daily be more like You in Your servanthood, remembering that if we simply obey You for the recognition it brings then we have completely missed the point. Our true success is never measured in fanfare, but in faithfulness. Amen.