04.24.1915

Grandpa Harry was an orphan during the Armenian Genocide.

By the age of four, he had witnessed more death and tragedy than any person ever should.

The youngest of six boys and four girls, he and his sister were the only two of his immediate family members who had not perished in the genocide. They spent countless nights sleeping on strangers’ doorsteps with empty stomachs and nothing more than a thin layer of clothing to keep them from freezing.  

The brutal details of his childhood are haunting. Before he was even able to count, he had witnessed first-hand the very definition of human depravity. My guess is that he didn’t even understand most of what was going on around him at the time. He was faced with thoughts and emotions that were particularly unnatural for some one his age to be bearing. He had every reason under the sun to be bitter and to go about the rest of his life with a heart full of hatred.

But his story did not end with genocide.

After the genocide, he and his sister were placed in a Syrian orphanage in Aleppo. When he completed elementary school, he knew he wanted to continue his education; he enrolled in a junior high school program offered at Aleppo College, and he worked to pay his way through junior high, high school and college. While attending Aleppo College, he also came to know the Lord and slowly grew into his calling as a pastor.

His pastoral calling brought him to the United States, where he spent seven years pastoring in Chicago, Illinois and twenty-seven years pastoring in Fresno, California. He had an abiding joy that was evident to all who knew him— a joy that could not be explained by anything other than the deep grace of Christ.

This is the story of a four-year-old orphan in Syria who chose Christ, and in doing so, provided a powerful witness. We as the Armenian people of today are faced with the same choice.

We have been deeply offended and hurt by political leaders’ refusal to acknowledge the Armenian Genocide. We share stories about relatives who were directly impacted by its atrocities, and we’re dumbfounded as to how they could be classified under any other term. I believe that it is important for us to continue pushing for acknowledgement of the genocide, but not without remembering that forgiveness is the cornerstone of the faith that our people died for in the first place.

My grandmother recently wrote a book, which included the transcript Grandpa Harry’s 90th birthday party speech. I won’t include all of it here, but there was one part in particular that stood out to me.

As he reflected, he shared, “The Lord has been good, very good to the four-year-old boy left orphaned in the streets of Homs, Syria, with many other boys and girls. They were homeless, hungry with bare feet, begging for food. Many of them perished from starvation and disease. By the grace of God, I survived.”

Today is April 24th, 2015. As Armenians, we refer to this day as Armenian Martyrs’ Day. It is the 100-year anniversary of the genocide that my grandfather and so many others suffered through. In the past century, the Armenian people have proven that this genocide was not successful. It did not destroy our nation and it certainly did not destroy the faith we stand for or the God we serve. I cannot attribute the resilience and strength of the Armenian people to anything other than the power of God who guides us.

The love of Christ radically transformed a man who had every reason to lead a life of bitterness and sorrow. This love offered healing and gave my grandfather hope and and purpose - that purpose being to glorify Him in all he did. This is our God. 

On Wandering

“The simple fact that a door is open does not confirm that walking through it is the right thing. “

When I heard these words, they gave me pause. The pastor was preaching on the importance of being good stewards of our opportunities. He emphasized that our lives are rich with opportunities to share and honor Christ in our actions, words, and decisions; when we take these opportunities, we open ourselves up to His transforming love.

With a wide range of beliefs about how to discover one’s purpose in life and understand God’s will, it becomes particularly important for us to know where our confirmation and direction comes from. Often times, we allow convenience to become our key standard of discernment. “If this door is open, “ we think, “then that must mean that God wants me to walk through it.” The Lord plans and orchestrates every detail of our lives; even so, Scripture does not support this notion that the readily available option is always the best one. Often times, it is quite the opposite.

When I think about the ways in which God guides His followers, I’m reminded of the Israelites in the Old Testament. A friend of mine once told me that geographically speaking, the Israelites could have realistically traveled from Egypt to the Promised Land in a matter of months. This was much more shocking to me than it should have been. There are very few locations on earth that it actually takes 40 years to travel to; by “very few,” I mean none.  But that’s beside the point.

Here’s my point. If the Israelites’ journey through the wilderness was one that could have been traveled in less than a year, it’s safe to say that in their 40 years of travel, they at times felt like they were taking the roundabout path because… well… they were.  They would go one direction for days only to find that they needed to turn back and take another path. They were wandering.

This reality is quite telling of how God works in our lives today. Ultimately, everything God does in our lives is meant to grow us in holiness and draw us closer to Him. With this in mind, we must remember that holiness is a high calling and it doesn’t come without surrender and faith. Through Christ, we are counted holy before God. The fruit of this holiness however is not easily cultivated. Some times, it means going through challenges or even following paths that we think are right just to find that we need to turn back because they don’t align with the holiness to which God calls us.

Proverbs 3:5-6 tells us to “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.” When I read this passage, my eyes immediately focus on the “he will make straight your paths,” and subtly avoid the “do not lean on your own understanding.” The Lord will make our paths straight, but He in doing so, He will require us to “lean not on [our] own understanding” and to “be not wise in [our] own eyes.” God’s direction in our lives redefines what it means to be led safely home. It teaches us that the easy path is not always the right path and that our strength and purpose can only be found by trusting Him.

All things considered, we need to approach each opportunity with discernment and wisdom. Yes, the Lord certainly leads us through our circumstances. There have been countless times in my life when I have seen His hand guiding me in a clear direction through surrounding circumstances. In those situations though, circumstance was not the only factor on my mind.  Scripture, prayer and mentorship were at the core of these decisions, and my circumstances simply supported the affirmations that I was receiving in these other areas.

With each opportunity that we have to honor Christ, we also have the opportunity to dishonor Him. Some times, honoring Him means taking the opportunity that’s right in front of you; other times it means walking away.

Make Christ known in each of your decisions. Be a discerning steward of each opportunity.

stand by [me]

On May 18, 2014, I was waiting to board a flight home from Chicago.

The flight was scheduled to leave at 4:30pm, but at 6pm, I was still sitting in the terminal with over-priced airport food in my lap and cat videos on my phone. The cat videos weren’t so bad.

Most people in the airport were visibly bothered by the wait, each expressing it in their own ways. There were the yellers— the people who “have better things to do than sit around in an airport all day!” and “need to get home RIGHT NOW!” I’ve never understood this group.

Then, there were the sleepers – this one is pretty self-explanatory. These people were just exhausted and a long delay at the airport was the last thing they wanted. They were the ones thinking, “maybe if I just fall asleep, I’ll wake up in LA.” I’ve been in this group before, although I wasn’t on this day.

Finally, there were the small-talking-people-watchers. This was my group. I don’t know what everybody else in my group was thinking, but I know what I was thinking.

If I’m stuck in this place with a big crowd of people who I’ll probably never cross paths with again, I might as well get to know a handful of them.

I talked to a girl named Cassie — probably in her late-twenties or early-thirties – who had literally just broken up with her boyfriend and wasn’t feeling too great about it. She needed someone to talk to, and I was as good a candidate as anybody. She spoke candidly and we prayed together. While talking to her, I watched a young couple chase their kid from the terminal to the market place. I also saw a noticeably anxious young man pace nervously from left to right until the plane finally boarded at 8pm, a solid three and a half hours later than our original boarding time.

I saw many people that day and many people saw me.  People who, in all likelihood, I never would have encountered, talked to, or met otherwise. While I won’t pretend that these three and half hours were my finest ever, I’ll admit that they felt valuable.

During my standby at Chicago O’Hare International Airport, many of the people I encountered reminded me of a kind of person I’ve met in my early twenties. Talking to Cassie was surprisingly comfortable, as I’ve been a listening ear for many of my dear friends in the difficult moments following their breakups. Watching the frantic young couple scramble around corners and grab at the air in hopes of catching their restless child, I recognized the feeling of “WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?!” – a sentiment that runs pretty constant through my internal narrative on most days, although I’m sure it’s even more intense when children are involved.

And then there was the anxious young man. He was extremely on-edge for the entire duration of our delay, unable to stand still for more than a minute or two, regularly approaching the Airline Customer Service Agent for updates. This is the person that I know all too well. Impatient. Fearful. Wanting answers. This has at times been my personal experience of early adulthood.

Despite the uncertainty that is inherent in this life stage, there are a handful of things that I do know. For starters, I know that the Lord is in my source of abiding strength and wisdom amidst the messiness.  That He is guiding and transforming me through each experience, even when I don’t see how or understand why.

I also know that this feeling of instability and awkwardness is only temporary. To carry on with the airport comparison, I know that I’m not going to be stuck in the airport forever. It’s a season, and seasons end— often times, they end before we’ve even taken the opportunity to truly appreciate them.

Lastly, I know I’m not alone. As young adults, we are surrounded by many people, ideas, places, and choices. Excluding unique limitations that each individual faces, life could essentially take us in any direction, which is both liberating and terrifying. Each day, we are faced with choices that will shape us into the people we are becoming. That’s a lot of pressure, and I know that I’m not the only one who feels it.

I’ve created this space in an attempt to work through some of the many questions and thoughts that we inevitably face in the in-between of early adulthood. I know many people, myself included, who have experienced the messiness of this season.

I have complete confidence that I will eventually arrive home, but for now, I’m still standing in that airport terminal.

So stand by [me]