I have a gift.

It must frustrate other people to no end.

The gift presents itself in a seemingly magical way: computers and technology seem to start working whenever I’m nearby. Sometimes, simply by walking into the same room, the technology begins behaving properly.

Now, I know that’s probably coincidental. The computer was likely going to start working whether I walked into the room or not. Maybe it just needed a few extra moments to think about what it was supposed to do.

But the actual gift is twofold:

First, I have a natural curiosity for how things work.

Second, I have a love for systematic problem solving.

Curiosity will get you pretty far on its own, but it can also get you into some sticky situations.

As a child, I loved tearing things apart, much to my parents’ dismay. The new remote-control car they bought me for Christmas would only last a week or so before my curiosity got the better of me. I’d be taking it apart to find out how it worked.

I remember the first few computers we had as a family. I’d open up the tower, reseat the RAM, install larger hard drives, and attempt various other “upgrades.” Looking back on it now, mom and dad were extremely patient with me.

But curiosity alone, as I said, can get sticky. Sometimes the remote-control car doesn’t work when it goes back together. Sometimes the computer doesn’t start after you install something new.

That’s where the second part of the gift comes in handy: problem solving. I love breaking down a problem into its various failure points. What needs to be checked? What could have gone wrong? What is the simplest explanation? Then, methodically, I move through the possible points of failure one by one.

And then comes that beautiful hit of dopamine when, after trying various things, there is success.

The screen lights up. The program opens. The machine runs. The thing that was broken works again. That is one of my favourite feelings.

It’s definitely why I love problem solving so much.

Problem solving works well with computers, but it is far more difficult when the thing that is broken is yourself or another person.

The beauty of fixing a computer is that it doesn’t really hide anything. Sure, you may have to dig a little to find the source of the problem. You check the connections, test the parts, restart the system, update the software, or pull the whole thing apart piece by piece. But eventually, if you are patient and methodical, you can usually find the issue.

People are different. People hide things.

Sometimes we hide things from others. Sometimes we hide things from God. And sometimes we even hide things from ourselves.

We build walls. We learn how to smile when we are hurting. We learn how to say, “I’m fine,” when we are anything but fine. We learn how to keep people at a safe distance so they can see the version of us we are comfortable showing, but not the parts of us that are wounded, ashamed, angry, afraid, or still very much under construction.

And that makes the work much harder.

You cannot simply open up someone’s heart like the side panel of a computer tower. You cannot install a new hard drive and suddenly make someone whole.

Wouldn’t that be convenient?

But this is where discipleship comes in. Discipleship isn’t pretending we are fine. It’s not gathering once a week to try and impress each other with how spiritual we sound.

Discipleship is learning to follow Jesus together.

It is bearing one another’s burdens.

It is allowing a few trusted people close enough to see what is really going on beneath the surface.

It is choosing vulnerability with people whose primary goal is to help us be shaped into Christ-likeness. Because the goal is not simply to feel better. The goal is to become more like Jesus.

And that requires humility. It requires honesty. It requires the courage to say, “Something in me is not working the way it should.” It requires the grace to let someone else say, “I can see that too, and I’m here to help.”

That is a holy kind of friendship.

That is discipleship. Brothers and sisters walking together toward Jesus, trusting that He is the one who heals, restores, corrects, strengthens, and makes us new.