college and just me and my life.

3 Sep


So here I am, my first full week of college completed and yet I am still alive to tell about it.

I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting out of this whole “college thing” but I feel strangely detached from the whole experience. Kind of like my experience with high school prom-“is this the best that this world has to offer?” People keep telling me their college years were the best years of their lives, why do I have a feeling it’s going to turn out like prom and I’m going to be left dissatisfied. “is this what everyone was looking forward to?”

Maybe it’s because I commute, I’m not living on campus, so I’m not forced to make friends to be able to survive. I get to go home and talk with my friends just the same. At the end of the day I’m not searching to belong somewhere, I already belong where I am now.

Maybe it’s because college is a definition of the culture of the world–drunken, self-serving, disconnected, impulse-driven. What part of that was supposed to sound exciting? Why am I supposed to want to be a part of that?

Now maybe I’m only seeing the surface, maybe they’re are good people in college who love God and have a relationship with Him, but why do I have a strange feeling that all the radical sold-out people I associate myself with are sitting in the prayer room sacrificing their time that way instead of wasting it on worldy education? I definitely feel sometimes like I might be wasting my time here, can’t I just live in the prayer room for the rest of my life? Surely you don’t need a college degree to do that? But at the same time I’m also called to reach out and be light on the campus. I know it. Its what I was created for, and it stirs my heart to intercession. But how can I do that when I’m looking at the world through a glass, through a window?

Like the Justin Rizzo song “Living For Another Age”–“this world has nothing i desire besides You…i am a stranger here, a pilgrim here and I’m living for another age” I feel like a stranger in this world and nothing can satisfy my longing to be fascinated. I’m a stranger passing through,  how am I supposed to minister to people? If I’m living for the coming age and my eyes are fixed on eternity, how am I supposed to notice the people hurting around me?

It’s a conflict in me that comes with agreeing to follow Jesus upon the mountains of difficulty and trial. I’ve already cried three times since I’ve started school. He never said it would be easy to follow Him, to take up my cross, its heavy and awkward and bears down on me. I just want to be able to say at the end of this: If you see my Beloved, tell Him I am lovesick!


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