My Faith Walk

“Calling to say thank you so much. You are a gift from God in my life and I couldn’t be more awed, inspired, and grateful for how you lift me up.”

I received this message from a friend last week. I paused after reading it, to truly appreciate the moment and magnitude of what was being shared. It also galvanized me to write. I struggle to put into words what my late friend, Bob Grant means to me. He is a gift from God in my life and I couldn’t be more awed, inspired, and grateful for how he lifted me up. He died on Dec 10th, 2017 so this time of year has since provided another opportunity to reflect on how blessed I am to have had him as a friend. While this isn’t the entire story, between the text message above and the story below, I trust my connecting the dots is causing him to smile up in Heaven…

My friend, confidant, and college roommate Pat, and his beautiful wife Amy reached out to me within days of one another in response to my last blog post: Hey Mama. However, it was only after Pat texted me that I made the connection. Earlier that week I listened to The Momentum of a Decision, a sermon by Pastor Steven Furtick, and per usual, it pierced me. My faith walk has been interesting, and I’d been struggling, particularly in the wake of Carl Lentz, the lead Pastor of Hillsong East Coast, having been fired in early November. Carl’s removal was tough on me. It forced me to hold a mirror up to myself, challenging me to grapple with poor decisions that I’ve made in the past. It led to my questioning leaving Hillsong because of his actions, but wouldn’t leaving be counter-intuitive? He isn’t the church. He’s a pastor. And aren’t I going to congregate and worship with other people? Technically it isn’t about one man. But I digress, because as Steven Furtick said in his aforementioned sermon, “the deepest things [God] will do in my life start shallow.” I admit though, that it was one man that led me back to find my faith.

In December 2009, during my junior year at Amherst, I was standing in line at Barnes and Noble with a friend, when a gentleman overheard our conversation. I was wearing my black Amherst Football sweat suit—a staple in my wardrobe—and my coveted purple Amherst Football hat. I do not remember exactly what we were discussing, but this gentleman walked over to us and asked if we attended Amherst. 

“Yes, we do,” I said.

“That is great! I am going back for my 55th reunion this May!”

“That is nice, when did you graduate?” I asked—having not done the simple math in my head (he graduated 55 years earlier!)

“1955,” he said smiling. I interpreted his smile as an assumption that I would have made the mathematical connection in my head.

A girl behind us in line offered, “I thought you were supposed to be good at math!” Her condescension was felt; she assumed that because I attended Amherst, I was good at math—I guess the joke was on her. Or was it really still on me for not quickly computing the answer? My brief interaction with the gentleman ended; we went our separate ways. I paid for a book, and he left the store. 

I went back to campus, the self-consciousness still piercing my ego. I looked this man up on the alumni website—as I had so often done with other alumni in the past. Robert E(rnest) Grant, class of ‘55, ordained in the United Methodist church June 1957, retiring in 1997 after 40 years of service in the northern New Jersey Annual Conference. An American Studies major, he was also part of “DQ” and Theta Delta Chi while at Amherst. I sent him a short email expressing my embarrassment, but also opening a new line of communication. He did not have to approach me in the store. I did not have to follow-up with an email. It’s nice to be nice. That brief email exchange sparked a lasting friendship. From December 2009 through May 2011, once a week (while in school), I met Bob at the same Barnes and Noble where our paths first crossed. 

I was in a weird place when I first met Bob. We talked about everything from difficult conversations on the football team, to struggles with school, to women, you name it. Returning to campus during the fall of 2010 from the first perfect (NESCAC & Little Three Championship) season in Amherst Football history, I felt that I personally hadn’t contributed to the end goal as much as I would have liked. I then lost my spot as a starting receiver. Bob and his family were still up in Maine, where they spent their summers, so our correspondence was through email. Bob helped me grapple with my emotions: 

Your speaking of living to expectations touches on a reality many experience. I remember struggling with that myself along the way. Then one day came the question: “what expectations?” Then it hit me that the expectations worrying me were really expectations I expected others to have of me. I was trying to live up to expectations I put on myself by projecting them on everyone around me. It was an “a-ha” moment that led me to see that what mattered was not other’s expectations, nor was it expectations I put on myself. What mattered was being true to myself, being the person God has created me to be…

That was always the issue: what had God created me to be? I wanted to be the alpha male, scoring touchdowns, getting all the girls, getting straight A’s in school—all things that I associated with masculinity and being the best. Yet again, God’s timing—the rest of Bob’s response, spoke to what I was grappling with:

It may seem a strange way to think of it, but one I trust a wide receiver will understand. Touchdowns count. Gaining yards counts. Winning the game counts. But what matters at the heart of it all is the ball - anticipating it, seeing it, catching it, holding it, protecting it, carrying it, advancing it, and if you’re not the one to whom it is thrown, doing what is yours to do to help the one who is. Everything that happens on the field follows. 

So, what is the equivalent of the ball? What is it that matters to you in life as the ball matters in a football game? I’m not the one to answer that question for you. Nor is anyone else. I can only pose the question. For me, it’s what the verse, ‘Hold fast to that which is good,’ is all about. 

I imagine in these last two weeks of preparation for the season the intensity builds. The headline on the season preview page of the current Amherst website says Amherst Set to Defend Program’s First NESCAC Title and features a picture of Sean Legister ‘11 among others. Talk about expectations. Good reason to just keep your eye on the ball. [9.7.2010]

Bob Grant changed my life. Throughout my conversations with him, there seemed to be an undercurrent of divine power and an overarching theme of a faith. Religion didn’t necessarily guide our discussions, but it was the elephant in the room. Bob consistently asked me about my spirituality: what I believe in, stand for, and if I attend services? While I often felt insecure discussing my spirituality in general, I felt it even more so when talking about religion with a pastor. 

I do believe in God. I believe in a higher power. I believe in Heaven and I believe in Hell. I read the Bible every night before I go to bed and every morning when I wake up—not that that makes me more religious than others, but that is my spirituality. I believe in the power of prayer and that God helps those who help themselves. However, my religion and spirituality may divert from that of the conventional churchgoer. 

When I was able to decide, for myself, that I would no longer attend church with my family—in my early teens—I saw that as a personal victory. Looking back, it was a defeat. I stopped going to church simply because I had been forced to up until that point. My decision not to attend was not about my religion; it was about power, agency. I was embarrassed when my mom caught the Holy Spirit. It was often her experience, and I wasn’t learning or feeling anything through osmosis other than experiencing this almost formulaic Sunday tradition that was hours long. Nonetheless, since being introduced to Hillsong by Derek and Parker early in my New York City life, I’ve attended regularly. My belief in prayer, my trust, and my faith in the Lord have helped guide my daily decisions. And even the stupid, silly, and immature ones He has worked in His favor.

When I began meeting with Bob in December 2009, I asked him for scripture that I could carry in my heart, forever. He did not immediately answer. He later told me that he hesitated because he wanted to get to know me better before providing such words. On May 15th, 2011 he finally answered:

Now I give you two I personally treasure. They’re not short, but they’re loaded.

Paul’s letter to the Galatians 5: “For Freedom Christ has set you free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.”

Paul’s letter to the Philippians 4:8. “Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.”

…

I first met Pat Timothy Harris during a football camp at Amherst College circa 2006. While we both played quarterback in high school, at a certain point that day I was running a route when strong arm Harris launched a deep pass my way. While I don’t remember if I caught it or not, I do remember saying “Good ball QB,” as I ran back to the line of scrimmage—that was the start of something good. 

Over a decade later, on Sept 13th, 2018 Pat and Amy asked me to officiate their wedding. And on June 15th, 2019, I gave it my best attempt in what was one of the most memorable experiences of my life…What I realized in a profound way after Pat and Amy separately texted me a couple weeks ago was how they consider me someone of strong faith and spirituality. I went back to read their instructions prior to officiating the wedding and Amy wrote: “I know faith plays a big role in your life and I think that’s incredible.” I trust Bob is smiling in Heaven because, again, he is the main reason why I went in search of my faith. And in only a divine sort of way, it was Pat who was standing next to me the day I met Bob at that Barnes and Noble! So, for Pat to ask me to officiate his wedding a decade later, was powerful to say the least…You can only the connect the dots in hindsight.

…

When I called Nancy, Bob’s wife, to share with her my revelation that Pat was standing next to me in line at Barnes and Noble when I first met Bob, she was so happy. Later that evening she sent me a note:

I appreciate your sharing about the significant conversations you had that would have pleased Bob, and reflect in some way God using him in your life. But they also bear testimony to God’s life being uniquely expressed in and through you. Isn’t that both humbling and confirming? And I am so grateful for your valuing and caring for me. I am indeed richly blessed. I’ve never thought of this before, but Bob would have been so appreciative of this, too.

…

I shared The Momentum of a Decision with the friend who sent the text message I quoted at the beginning of this piece. I’ve been known to randomly send friends sermons. One of the parts that resonated most with her: “Stop trying to earn His love and accept His grace”…That is such a poignant message; as I think about my connection with Bob, accepting the Lord’s grace can be shown when embarrassment turns to vulnerability, which is actually a strength. Vulnerability in turn expedites connection. And connecting is what all humans need, regardless of who or what you believe in. I’m trying to do for others what Bob Grant did for me, or better stated, what Amy wrote to me after my delayed happy wedding anniversary email, “I will always see, respect and love you. And I know you will do the same for me.”