My personal story of becoming a Love Rebel

I was 17 years old. My hand was on the doorknob of Dr. Miles' office at Wheaton College. I was about to have a conversation that would end in me being expelled, and my life was about to be ruined. 

To understand the stakes, you'd have to know more of my backstory.

I was raised in the kind of utopian/dystopian household you could learn about if you watch the documentary "Shiny, Happy People" - a home in which punishment was swift and early, and rewards were meted out based on accomplishment and upholding the "model Christian" image of my family. 

Such was my belief and fear in my identity as a sinner that when I was 12, I chose to "Profess my Faith" in front of Fairlawn Christian Reformed Church.

This entailed memorizing the Heidelberg Catechism, which was an oral exam on a series of 52 weeks of questions centered around the core concepts of Guilt, Grace, and Gratitude. If I passed, I would stand in front of the congregation to sign up for a life of gratitude - appreciative that I would not burn in hell despite my utter depravity.

Most people in my church community went through the process in a rote fashion together as a group at age 18. But I was much to scared of burning in hell for all eternity to wait that long. I needed to profess early to bring myself some relief from my fear. 

So, as a skinny 12-year-old girl, I faced an all-male group of church leaders, responding to such questions as, "What is your only comfort in life and in death?" with answers such as, "That I am not my own, but belong body and soul to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ."

The elders of the church asked me why I wanted to profess so young, and I responded with an impassioned speech about the depth of my sinful nature, which they found quite impressive.

It never crossed my mind that anyone on earth could believe otherwise, as my life consisted entirely of home, church, and Christian school, where parents, students, and teachers alike signaled their commitment to the concept of the "Total Depravity of Man." 

I rebelled ever so slightly at age 16, by choosing to go to Wheaton College, which was considered liberal, compared to Calvin College, which was where the members of my school and church were expected to attend.

Upon arrival at Wheaton, step one was to sign "The Pledge" - a document that committed me to a standard of acceptable behavior, which included no drinking alcohol, no smoking, no having sex, and no (gasp) dancing, all of which was in line with my previous commitments. I happily signed on, and happily judged others who were expelled or suspended for recklessly abandoning their God-ordained commitments to pure living.

You smoked!? Suspended. Simple.

However, when I came home for Christmas that first year, my total depravity was too much for my mother. I must have rolled my eyes too many times, or not done my share of the dishes, because she forbade me from coming home during my summer breaks, saying she'd probably kill me if she had to spend more than 2 weeks at a time with me under the same roof. 

So, back at Wheaton for my second semester, I told my boss, Dr. Miles - head of the French language department - that I needed to find a place to be for the summer, and that I wanted to join the Wheaton in France program.

He informed me that first-year students weren't allowed to travel for the summer, but when I told him I wasn't allowed home, he found a loophole that allowed me, technically, to be considered a sophomore, and eligible for the course. 

Because he was bending the rules to invite someone so young, he promised to take extra, extra good care of me by having my host family be the one that was nearly adjacent to the classroom, so there was little risk of my getting lost. 

Off I went to France for the summer, and was introduced to my host family in Avignon - a 40-something woman and her boyfriend. They warmly welcomed me and showed me around, but after only a few days, my host mom asked me to help her with a little secret...

She had gotten a lucrative contract in Paris, and had invited her 19-year-old son, Ludovic, to become my host family instead, so that she could still receive the income from my stay. Shhhhhhhhhh.... 

Ludovic and I were then left unchaperoned for the next 8 weeks. We went to Madonna and Midnight Oil concerts as bartenders, serving beer to the crowds. We went to neighbors' pool parties until 4 o'clock in the morning. We sipped wine and champagne under the plane trees on the Avignon center square. We went to topless beaches. I smoked my first cigarette. It was a life 180 degrees different than anything I had ever experienced, and I loved it! I broke nearly every rule in "The Pledge" with the greatest enthusiasm - even dancing! (No sex, though, because I was 100% convinced of punishment by disease or pregnancy.) 

A fantastic summer! 

Except that I had forgotten to attend classes and cultural outings. And I received failing D minus grades on all ten credit hours in my major course of study. I was done for. I was flunking out of school, and more depraved than ever.

Then a strange thing happened. Upon returning to Wheaton, I received my report card, and it showed that I had earned all A minus grades - nearly the top scores! I couldn't believe my summer French teachers would have ever done such a thing. 

So there I stood at Dr. Miles' office door, ready to confess. 

He called me in, and with a deep trembling in my stomach, I told him all about my summer and that I hadn't earned any A minuses.

Halfway through my story, he shut the door and continued listening intently, with a twinkle in his eyes.

His reply was, "No wonder you speak such great French! You lived the real French experience, which you never would have gotten in a classroom. We're going to make a deal. Sometimes the rules are made to be broken. You must NEVER tell anyone at Wheaton this story before you graduate, or your grades will go back to D-. As long as this stays between us, I'm going to keep your grades an A-. You're a great student, and I'm proud of you for being brave enough to have some fun."

I was stunned. He was the Bishop of Digne to my Jean Valjean. My life was not over, because he had chosen to give it back to me. 

In that moment, I understood guilt, grace, and gratitude in a profound, new way. It wasn't about following the rules. It wasn't about reward and punishment in accordance with sin. 

It was about the pure joy of being alive, and being loved. About listening deeply and treating others with kindness and compassion. 

That moment was the beginning of my life as a Love Rebel.

It's part of a much more ancient and universal tale. It leads me to want to see and love people for the beautiful, wonderful humans that they are - even and especially when they believe themselves to be wrong, or small, or sinful, or defiant. 

It's what makes Awaken tick - we're about love. And we're willing to break the rules of culture, class, religion, and even the International Coaching Federation, if it means you're free to be seen and loved the way you are right now.