They told me college would go by fast. I didn’t believe them. Four years felt like a long time to be away from family. And after first semester’s final exams, I thought to myself well, that was fun.
But now the past two years have gone by in the blink of an eye. And I want to hold onto the next three semesters and tell them to just slow down.
On my high school graduation announcements, I chose the verse Ephesians 3:20, “Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.” That verse was true then and it is even more true now.
Now people are asking me about where I will be in the next three years. Where do you see yourself after college? What do you want to do with that major? What is your dream job?
My answer? I don’t know.
Strangely, that answer doesn’t worry me. I’m okay with not knowing. The future is not calling. I don’t need to pick up. I’m learning my responsibility is to live right here, in the moment, taking the next right step. There is strange peace in knowing I can not mess up God’s plan for my life with one or two seemingly wrong decisions.
My job right now is to learn, to discover, to take in new information. And I’m learning far more than how to give a professional presentation, write a research brief, or balance a company’s balance sheet. (Praise the Lord.)
I am learning that I was not created to be productive; I was created to love God and love people–and sometimes that is the least “productive” but most important thing I can do. In the words of my roommate, we were created not to produce but to project. I am learning to project His peace, His grace, and His joy.
I am learning to keep short accounts. In being open, honest, and humble, there is immense healing.
I am learning to listen to people’s stories. I do not know or understand the experiences of my friends who are minorities, but I can be an ally when I am quiet and when I listen.
I am learning that making difficult, controversial decisions may lose me the respect of my peers. Yet I am also learning that when I am convicted of something, I must act. Knowledge calls for action.
I am learning that home is more ambiguous a word than I thought. Home is where my family is, it is where my body is, it is where I feel most at peace. Home is less of a place and more of a state of being. Home is not one but it can exist in many forms, yet its multiplicity does not decrease its significance.
I am learning to pay attention to the things that make my heart break. Often I would rather not care so that I can keep moving forward. But I am learning to take a step back, to sit in the pain, to allow myself to cry, and then to give it all to God.
I am learning that the Gospel is not for the fearless or the tearless. Jesus did not come for the strong. He came so that the weak would be strong and the broken would be whole and the fearful would know love.
I learning that I still cling to the past I long to be rid of. The same insecurities I thought I released are still a struggle. And sin continues to manifest itself in similar ways. And yet–there is grace for that.
I am learning that it is okay not to know what I have learned, but to simply know that I am learning.