A journey to humility: Hope's failure; God's faithfulness, Part 1
I never knew that joining a speech and debate club would be the best way for me to grow in my faith and as a friend. My first-ever introduction to the world of speech and debate was at an interest meeting for a brand-new club. My interest peaked as the demo debate started. I did not know anyone there or anything about my capabilities for the activity, but I knew I had to do it. I was dead set on joining the club the moment we walked out of that church building. I even had the events I wanted to compete in planned out in my head: LD debate and open interpretation (I have still never completed an open interpretation, despite my attempts over the years). When my open attempts failed, I competed in After Dinner Speaking instead. Little thirteen-year-old me didn’t quite know how to give a funny speech, but I tried my hardest. I only went to one tournament, but I made wonderful friendships and learned so much. After a season of 5th and belows, I was ready for more.
My second year of NCFCA, I jumped headfirst into competition. I competed in three speech categories: Info, Persuasive, and Impromptu, as well as LD debate. I went to three tournaments and my goal was to break in debate. At the last tournament of the season, I broke in my persuasive which satisfied my desire to break for a while. I attended regionals, enjoyed my time, and left even more determined to break in debate the following year. That taste of doing well was infectious. It seemed obvious that because I had performed well in my second year, I could do even better in my third year. In fact, I thought it would be the easiest year yet. Those thoughts took over my entire mindset as I continued into the next season.
This was my year. But when I look back, it was a year of being an absolute brat. I had never broken in debate and I was convinced it was time for success. I had an unwavering passion for breaking in LD debate. It was my sport, my specialty, and my favorite event in NCFCA. It was 2020, at Patrick Henry College, the first tournament of the year. I went 3-3, losing a key round to a novice debater, which didn't help my attitude. But no big deal, I had three more tournaments to succeed. The second tournament was a two-day tournament. There were four debate rounds and this time I was supposed to break. My judge got my opponent and I mixed up and checked the wrong box. I was 2-2 and if I won that ballot, I most likely would have broken. This upset me a great deal, so much so that I failed to celebrate the award the Lord had blessed me with that tournament, a 5th place LD speaker award.
Unfortunately, my attitude outside of debate got worse. I was more driven and more selfish than ever before. The next tournament was brutal for my pride. My record was the worst it had been since my novice year: 2-4. I couldn't understand why. My rounds went well and people complimented my skills, saying I had improved greatly. Mentors read my cases and encouraged me in the arguments I used. Yet I received loss after loss. With each loss, my heart grew harder and harder. This record became my obsession. Everything in my life revolved around my debate record. However, I tried to convince myself that I was fully focused on God. If I could just muster up the love for Him, then he would give me exactly what I wanted. Pre-round prayer with opponents became a checkbox of how Godly I could be to earn my four wins. I remember the conscious thought: “I should go pray with that little kid I’m about to debate, that will make God happy and it will look good for me.” Let's just say...the Lord did NOT approve of this and made that very clear.
“I immediately opened the ballot folder, ready to see a 3-3 record because there was no way I had lost to more than three of those other debaters, or so I thought. But as I looked at those ballots I saw: loss, loss, loss, loss, loss. I had gone 1-5, the worst record of my entire NCFCA career. That record killed me. I sat down on the floor in that crowded hallway, moping over my pitiful record. I was so wrong.”
The Anderson, SC mixer was the last tournament of the year for me. Little did we know, it would be the last tournament of the season for anybody. I treated it like the ticket to regionals that I deserved, especially in debate. I was so full of myself that I couldn’t even picture myself not breaking in LD, even though that is exactly what happened. I immediately opened the ballot folder, ready to see a 3-3 record because there was no way I had lost to more than three of those other debaters, or so I thought. But as I looked at those ballots I saw: loss, loss, loss, loss, loss. I had gone 1-5, the worst record of my entire NCFCA career. That record killed me. I sat down on the floor in that crowded hallway, moping over my pitiful record. I was so wrong. While my friends were worried about losing the last half of their season, including regionals and nationals, I was making my failures the center of attention. They even tried to comfort me at that moment but I brushed them off and tried my best to hide my hurt. Despite my efforts, my pride left a gaping hole in my heart, one nothing but Christ could fill. I wish I could say that I immediately ran to Christ the second I felt the sting of humility or that I at least realized my sin and longed to work on it. I wish that I had repented of all the times I used God as my cover as I tried to look like a loving friend when I simply cared about myself. But no, my heart needed more humbling than just that record. When we found out all was canceled, even nationals, my heart was even harder. Instead of suffering with my friends, I felt fulfilled. My thought process was "now they know how I feel" and “If I don’t get to go to regionals, it’s only fair they don’t.” I was an absolute brat and I don’t say that lightly. Every bit of my heart was turned toward myself and my accomplishments. I had hate in my heart for opponents who debated without ethics and judged their sins while ignoring mine. My heart needed a giant change because, despite the little fulfillment my selfishness had tried to give me, I needed the fullness that only Christ could bring. That summer of 2020 is when the true humbling of my heart began.
Want to know how God faithfully guided Hope through these struggles? Part 2 is coming out soon; stay tuned!
