When Campus Ministers Love College Students Too Much

I'm not ashamed to say I love college students. And there's not really anything you could do to get me to change that. I do believe that God placed a deep love for university-aged young adults in my heart--and as the children's song would say it--down in my heart to stay.

But this past weekend, I sat completely broken in an empty parking lot and sobbed. The words of frustration came in torrents as I spoke all the poison that had been building for months. After a while of hurling other random frustrations aloud to the Lord, I finally busted out this confession:

"Abba, I HATE summer. I feel so useless. I need schedule. I don't know what to do without my students. I--"

The world seemed to halt as I felt silent. I heard my own words. "I don't know what to do without my students."

I took a deep breath. "That's what this whole thing is about, isn't it?" I felt God smile. He does truly rejoice when we finally realize the truth: somewhere along the way, I had begun to find my identity in my college students.

Ridiculous? Absolutely.
Insane? As much as the roller-coaster lives they live.
Why? (That's a good question.)

With my identity in my students, my mood has shifted with every day on campus; my thoughts have been jumbled with the ever-shifting flow of events and schedules. I have felt hopeless when students aren't growing as fast as I feel they should; I've made myself a god to judge their progress; I've hurt them as I've pushed them at my pace  and with my directions and not His. And in that, I've loved them TOO MUCH... if too much love is really love.

These past 48 hours I've been asking God to alter my gaze from myself and my students to His sacrificial love. Every time I felt joy or sadness emerge, I'm asking myself, "Where is this stemming from?" If it's stemming from something other than Jesus and an acknowledgement of all He has given me and mine, it is purely prideful, dangerously shallow, constantly shifting, and simply selfish. And that's not what true love looks like.

I must love--not too much--but fully. And that comes first from abiding in His love's fullness. "So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him" (I John 4:16)

I desire to love college students, but my ultimate desire is that they would know Jesus.  If my "love" for them gets in the way of Jesus' love for them, I might as well hate them. Oh, that He would create in me a heart clean to be a fellow vessel and not a dam! I do not gain energy by my students growth, but instead I need Someone bigger than me to change any of our realities--whether reaching out to pour us out or fill us up.

No more need summer be a time of despair. These are days full of abiding and serving, just like the school year. These are days of preparation, joy, and hope. These are days ordained by my Father before the foundation of the world. These are days to love fully!

"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full." (John 15:9-11)

As if He knew I needed a reminder of His mercy, He sent a sunset to that lonely, tear-washed parking lot. The words of Lamentations 3:22-24 filled my soul: "The LORD'S lovingkindnesses indeed never cease for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness. 'The LORD is my portion,' says my soul. 'Therefore I have hope in Him.'" And yet the Lord took it farther. "My mercies don't wait until morning to be new, child," He said. "Every sunset is a testament to you of that." What wondrous Love is this, oh my soul!

My soul waits silently for God alone--for my expectation is from Him. (Ps. 62:5)