“I came to college with a desire to get the education that I needed to be a medical doctor or a lawyer,” says Carolyn Clarke. “I was going to earn lots of money so that I could take care of myself and not be dependent on anyone. It was about what I could get out of it, not what I could give back.”
Today, “Clarke” is a project manager for green building projects in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she lives with her husband Lew Klatt, a poet who teaches English at Calvin College. Her vision for life changed significantly as a result of her encounter with a CCO staff worker.
When Clarke showed up at Chatham College (now University) in the fall of 1984, she was not interested in campus ministry opportunities. “I had gone to church growing up, but when my parents split up, all I could see was a church full of hypocrisy and a fluffy youth group that didn’t meet my needs. I tip-toed into a couple of college fellowship meetings early on, and I thought, ‘These people are weird!’”
But CCO staff member Lisa Foose took an interest in Clarke that eventually broke through. “She’d keep inviting me to meetings and I wouldn’t show up, but she just continued to love me and support my interests,” Clarke remembers. “I did not feel judged by her.”
And when Clarke returned to campus after her first Christmas break, she sought Lisa out.
“I’d gone home to my splintered family, and it was awful. In addition, a friend’s dog had died, and in the midst of our grief, we wondered, ‘Is that it? Is this all there is?’” Lisa invited Clarke and her friend to study the Bible with her, and they accepted the invitation. “My motivation was strong. If God existed, I wanted answers to the suffering, injustice, and decay in the world,” ,” says Clarke.
And then, at an Easter service on Chatham’s campus, Lisa and George Foose handed out nails to the students who attended, and encouraged them to pound them into a wooden cross to remind them how Christ had died for their sins. “I put that nail in the hand-made, small cross and something physical happened,” says Clarke. “Something ricocheted through me and let me know that instead of God being this punishing, remote creature, he was right there suffering with me, loving me. That afternoon, I spent hours on my dorm room floor, sobbing, because the God who used to be so far away was suddenly a comforting presence, and more real than a flesh-and-blood person.”
After that Easter encounter, Clarke took hold of her faith, allowing it to penetrate every area of her life, from the classroom to her home life to the workplace. “The CCO’s message was, ‘we are not our own, we belong to the Lord and we are to do all things to God’s glory.’”
Today, Clarke and her husband, Lew, make their home in Grand Rapids, where they worship at Church of the Servant and choose to live in a mixed-income, racially diverse neighborhood where their presence can make a difference.
“Life is not about being sheltered, it’s about being on the front lines,” says Clarke. “On a daily basis, I am reminded about how outrageously blessed I am. I want to share that with others. I’m trying to be someone in my neighborhood and work environment who causes people to wonder, ‘Why is she so passionate about racial reconciliation and the environment? Why is she offering to pray for me? What’s at the heart of that?’ The CCO taught me that being a Christian is hard work. It’s a lot easier to think about these things than to be confronted by them. We are outrageously loved and set free by Christ, but with that comes responsibility.
“I am staggeringly grateful for the CCO. It taught me to be faithful, to pursue life with excellence, and to proclaim God’s glory, even when life is confusing and painful.”