My destiny was set that spring day, or so it seemed. The pomp and circumstance signaling the spectacle of accomplishment left me tearfully on the sidelines. The Trenton State College Class of 1979 marched triumphantly on the football field toward a handshake and a diploma, as I cried tears of seeming failure and lost hope.  Unable to complete my last degree requirements, just fourteen semester hours of student teaching, I was resigned to the sidelines, cowering as opportunity passed me by, and success with it.

It’s a wonder I made it through four years of higher education, with only one extra semester, the result of bad behavior and a GPA of .75.  What can I say? My second semester freshman year, I discovered Disco, and came out of the closet. Can you blame me for three F’s, two D’s, and a C? Supposedly SAT scores are a predictor of your ability to succeed with college academics, but they didn’t take into consideration the significant impact that Saturday Night Fever would have on the fresh from the suburbs and newly out gay kids. I was lost for a semester on the dance floor of Club Zodiac, with the mirror ball sparkling a new life of self-discovery, and apparently no studying. I recovered from the Hustle, Travolta (with the good hair, and polyester), and the Bee Gees, making it through four more years of academics, only to fall just short. The SAT’s can never measure heart and desire, both of which I had in abundance.

The realization came to me at the age of seventeen. Once I left my parents house to go off to college, I would be gone forever, never to return to the darkness and secrets behind those doors. Call it pride, call it hard headedness, call it the dogged desire to escape. Whatever the determination in my heart to take a stand, and make a go of it, I left that house with some clothes, twenty dollars in my pocket, an inadequately small student loan, and I never looked back. What I could not foresee was the heartache and hardship that such a line in the sand would cause in my life. The destiny that unfolded throughout an aimless life included childhood abuse, drug addiction and alcoholism, depression and a cry for help through two suicide attempts, all the while claiming a theology that denied my very being and right to exist as a child of God.

My destiny was set that day thirty-seven years ago, or so it seemed. But as the seasons of my life continue to unfold, I find myself with new growth planted in a life of wholeness and belovedness. I have the potential opportunity to attend the Divinity School of a major university, through a special program for those whose life experiences and ministry qualify them to apply for the Master of Theological Studies Program, without having completed their undergraduate degree. I met with the Admissions department and I am seriously considering “going for it”! I was told I was the perfect candidate as my life has come full circle, and my life experiences give me a unique credibility to those I engage with.

Perhaps what seemed all those years ago as failure and lack of accomplishment, is finally resonating with the sound of a life well lived. I am all about living this journey of life now, and assisting everyone I encounter to realize they have inherent value and worth as the beloved children of God. Maybe our destinies are what we make of them, and maybe that’s what success looks like.