By junior year, the newness of college has worn off, much like the sheen that used to brightly gleam on my room key. During the summer, I found myself lacking the familiar, bubbly excitement at the prospect of returning to friends, classes, and the typical routine that I have grown so accustomed to. Don’t get me wrong. I dearly love the people and the work (yes, even class work) at Erskine, so this emptiness was both puzzling and disturbing. Have I grown more cynical in just nineteen years of living? Has college sucked away my soul just like people joke about? How could I lose enthusiasm about something that used to give me so much joy? I used to be that girl who equated the first day of school with an unofficial holiday because of how special it was. Feel free to make fun of me at will.
This blog post doesn’t necessarily answer my query. I suppose you could see this as the electronic scribbling of a tired junior. However, all of these reflections provoked me to crack open my Bible in search of a specific verse in Philippians that popped in my head. Instead, I flipped the pages to the book of Hebrews, which is so full of rich, clear, references to the beauty of God’s care for us. In the middle of reading, I was reminded that I don’t need to be excited about school or classes in order to give thanks and praises to God for all that He has given. My focus should not be on the my current workload or how overwhelmed I will feel from being immersed in a concentrated community after only spending time with family or a small group of friends during the summer.
The twentyish minutes that I spent with those thirteen chapters in Hebrews filled the void that was so deeply rooted in my stomach, but not for the reasons I previously described. I still feel overwhelmed and apprehensive about the rest of the year, but I am trusting that I can make it through each day with a joy that comes from hope that is “an anchor for the soul, firm and secure” (Hebrews 6:19). I firmly believe that the only way I can survive each day is through sheer dependence on God’s goodness and love. At the beginning of the semester, I was given a morning prayer that has become my prayer for the rest of the semester, but also for the rest of my life. I hope this excerpt, which runs through my mind continually throughout the day, is as encouraging to you as it is to me:
Take my life and make it count. Take my little and make it much. Take my weakness and make it strong. Renew me through and through.