An introduction (of sorts)…

My name is Justin Egan. I am a coward.

There, I said it. Not just to close friends in a safe environment, but to everyone who deserves to know. What makes me a coward? Glad you asked.

For 25 years, I’ve been a follower of Christ, but I don’t talk about it, almost as if I’m embarrassed or something. I try to live life in such a way that it may be assumed by others, subtly demonstrating the values I hold dear through my actions. However, is that really enough? I’d say not. He says it himself: Whoever is ashamed of me and my words, the Son of Man will be ashamed of them when he comes in his glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels. I often grapple with the unease that comes from this silence. I’m also afraid that if everyone knows, they’ll act differently around me, as if I’m somehow holding them to a higher standard than they are comfortable with. It’s a strange paradox; I deeply value my faith, yet I fear alienating those I care about. I’m not one to enforce or impose rules on anyone’s life, believing that the acceptance of His teachings is inherently personal and is to be embraced individually by free will. Those things, coupled with a fear of losing the friends I already have, weigh heavily on my heart, even though I know that no one in the circles I run in is as judgmental as I fear. I wish I could be more open, sharing the joy, peace, hope, and purpose my faith brings me, but the fear of rejection looms large in my mind.

So what’s changed? Why this sudden declaration?

Basically, I have several ruminations regarding the word and what I’ve learned over the years whether it be from God’s word itself, my own life experiences, or a combination thereof. I thought I should start putting a few of these to paper not just for my own benefit lest I start forgetting things, but for the benefit of others who might find themselves walking the same narrow road. I’m not arrogant enough to think I’m some great teacher, but if anyone can pick up even a nugget of wisdom from anything I have to say, cool. Additionally, I have this looming fear that one day I’ll get home, finish decorating the mansion He gave me, and think to myself, “Hey, I wanna go hang out with __________ and maybe play some games.” To have that person not be with the Father and have it be my fault weighs heavily on my heart. I often reflect on the relationships we’ve built in life, considering the impact we have on one another, and the responsibilities that come with it. Each moment spent sharing God’s teachings and love could be the spark someone needs to ignite their own faith. The potential consequences of inaction fuel my desire to reach out and share, as I believe we are called to uplift and encourage one another. In this way, my writings become a bridge connecting my experiences with the divine, extending hope and understanding to those who may be searching for their place in this world.

So, now what? What changes?

Nothing really. This is about me and my walk with Him, a journey that shapes my daily choices and interactions. As I said before, I try to live life in such a way that others can know Him through my actions, to that end I’ll still have game nights, and I’ll still play and review different games that challenge my thinking and bring joy to my friends. These moments of connection are vital, as they not only allow us to bond over our shared interests but also serve as a platform for me to share my beliefs in a subtle yet impactful manner. Just admitting all this publicly may change how I answer questions about why I do what I do, allowing me to embrace my true self more openly without fear. I’m hoping this post will simply break the bonds of shame and embarrassment that I never needed to actually feel, because deep down, I know my friends care about me and would be there for me no matter what way I lean. They create a supportive environment where I can express my thoughts and actions freely, reinforcing that my faith is a fundamental part of who I am, enriching both my life and the lives of those around me.