Well, it’s almost time.
Almost time to head back to campus for what very well might be my last semester of college, my last few months of wandering along tree-laden walkways amongst the iconic red-brick buildings, the end of living and learning surrounded by friends and professors and colleagues and opportunities to stretch myself from within the safety net of being a student.
This role has been a large part of my life since I was 3 or 4 years old: student. I’m not sure what to do with the knowledge that I’ll soon be leaving that niche, that I won’t be able to claim the title of “student” and anchor it to a particular educational institution any longer after the next several months.
I love school, and I almost always have. Sure, you’ll still hear me grumbling about it once in a while, but no relationship is perfect… 😉 So it feels like I’m leaving a friend behind, a really good one.
I know you never stop learning, despite not spending each weekday in a classroom listening to lectures on women’s issues and rhetoric or partaking of lively discussions on history and horticulture, debating forensic techniques and cases or offering a fresh perspective on literary works.
But a piece of my heart loves those weekdays spent in classrooms, surrounding myself with likeminded literature-lovers and rhetoricians, amateur horticulturists and quiet feminists.
I’m comforted by this: Every task, opportunity, challenge, etc., is a chance to learn something. To put into use something learned before. To stretch and discover. To put faith in you and your abilities.
After all, I was not given a spirit of fear (2 Timothy 1:7), but a Father who cares for and supports me, who will hold me up and guide me to new possibilities and open doors. So until I know where I’m going, I choose this approach: