I’ve started writing like three different blog posts about a plethora of incredible experiences I’ve had during these past two weeks at Lee University’s summer honors program. Because I’m having difficulty compiling all my thoughts into something cohesive and insightful, I’ll just start at the beginning and see where my keyboard takes me.
Okay. So.
I didn’t even know summer honors existed until Lee Day back in April. I knew high schoolers sometimes went to summer college programs, but none of my friends had ever gone to something like this before. I wouldn’t have ever even considered going to Lee’s program for rising high school seniors and rising college freshmen had it not been for my roommate and a group of other new Lee friends that would also be attending this summer.
So I sent in my paperwork, signed my waivers, and received my letter of acceptance about three weeks later.
And thus began the rest of my life.
Being here at Lee for two weeks is like getting a glimpse into what the next four years of my life might hold. Refreshing friendships. Compelling classes. An entirely unfamiliar city. Potential romances. It feels like an impossibility to wrap my brain around the idea that everything I’ve been accustomed to for the past eighteen years of my life is about to be thrown out the window.
I can say with complete certainty that I have no idea what is going to happen next.
And, surprisingly enough, I can also say with complete certainty that I am okay with the unknown.
Divine affirmation came to me yesterday afternoon once I opened up my neglected copy of My Utmost for His Highest. The book had been sitting on my shelf since I moved in about ten days ago, and for whatever reason I decided to pick it up and read yesterday. The verse at the top of the passage I left off at read, “He went out, not knowing where he was going” (Hebrews 11:8).
It continues to blow my mind how God will use us in the moments we feel most useless, pulling our attention away from ourselves and toward His guiding hand. I wasn’t sure (I’m still not sure) where He was leading me these two weeks, but I was carrying burdens I desperately needed lifted coming into summer honors.
Conveniently enough, the theme this year at summer honors is called “Come Alive.”
Come alive. It means something different for everyone.
To me, “coming alive” means waking up from a life spent chasing after things the world tells me I need in order to be fully satisfied. Examples of these tempting desires include a boyfriend (still right there at the top of my list), a perfect Instagram profile, a successful blog by the time I turned 18, a distinct style, trendy surface-level friendships…you get the point.
And so I sit here, my flesh still trying to convince me I need all of these shallow things right this minute so I can keep up with everyone else while living a life spent closing up my cracks so my insecurities won’t leak out.
And I felt lonely.
I didn’t expect to glean much from “Come Alive”. Yes, it’s something to consider, but I wondered how much one person could actually change in a span of two weeks. How can I flip my perspective so drastically and so quickly while interacting with 200+ other people who could be in the exact same sinking ship as me?
The answer was right before my eyes: 200+ people in the same sinking ship as me. My wonderful RA group and I connected our broken pieces– because we’re all broken in some way– to create the most magnificent masterpiece. We discussed the ideas of rolling away our stones and becoming stone catchers for others. I discovered that the more myself and others began to let our guards down, the easier it was to catch each other’s stones. By becoming vulnerable with each other about past regrets, past relationships, past scars, and past heartbreaks, I specifically learned two things:
Vulnerability is not weakness. Vulnerability is strength– these precious new friends certainly summoned their strength from Christ in order to reveal their deepest, best-kept hurts.
Our stones, once rolled away, can more easily be left in the past.
Sometimes all it takes is one gentle nudge to give us the courage to share our stories and scars with each other. And once we do, the healing can truly begin.
It’s really easy to feel either singled out or completely isolated in a gigantic group of people, especially at summer honors. Since I arrived at Lee eleven days ago, I’ve almost felt frozen in the midst of the rocking waves of introductions and constant social interaction. My initial instinct is to raise my guard up higher than ever before because of my desperate desire to be accepted by my peers.
HOWEVER. This type of inward isolation simply does not work in our relationships with others. Summer honors at Lee is one of the only seasons in my life so far where I didn’t know a soul from my hometown and I was being forced out of my comfort zone.
In order to survive in college (and in life), you need a community of people who will rally by you, grow spiritually with you, and love you for all your flaws (and vice-versa). For whatever heavenly reason, God grew the most amazing community out of my summer honors RA group and no doubt led me to friends I will keep throughout college.
But even if I hadn’t made any friends at summer honors, I honestly believe I would’ve still felt at home at Lee. There’s always a friendly face just around the corner, even if I don’t know the person’s name.
Here at Lee, people unashamedly chase Jesus with their whole hearts. Here at Lee, spreading the Gospel is a priority, and that mission starts right here on campus to each and every individual.
So if I bug you incessantly about the unbelievability of Lee, this is why.
Comments