Category: College

Unknowingly, I have operated under the assumption that if my life after graduation was different it automatically meant that it was bad. File that under incredibly dumb things that I believed as a twenty-something.

I had a really hard time trusting that I was where I was supposed to be. Everything changed. I felt alone, I was scared, and I could not stop comparing myself. It felt like everyone else was so satisfied, progressing so smoothly. I felt fragmented, like I had lost my sense of belonging.

But I was in a chapter that I could not leave and could not skip. I prayed for gratitude. I prayed for patience. I even prayed for change. One of the major issues I was running into was that things had changed, and I assumed that was a loss.

My parents had told me a hundred times while I was in school that college was “not real life”. I had completely rejected that statement like any kid who knows way more than their parents would. How could it not be real life if I was living it?

When January came so did the culture shock of living in Cleveland without Lee. I didn’t realize how celebrated I had felt as a Lee student. To me, Lee students were heroes. I stepped off my pedestal and into reality.  (Cue existential crisis #1)

After losing my identity, I lost another portion of college life. Conveniently having a thousand friends. I didn’t realize how easy it was to have so many friends in college.  Sure, you are busy in school, but more often than not, you are doing whatever you have to do with your best friend by your side. Now I had a schedule unlike any of the people that I had previously spent all day, everyday with. Community looked completely different when the vast majority of my time was spent alone. (Cue existential crisis #2)

And then there was school. Minus the four years I spent developing basic human functions like walking and talking, I had been a student. To end that chapter – essentially the only thing I had ever known – was confusing. Measuring success in school was as easy as a GPA. The course of correction was simple enough. As a life-long perfectionist I was very comfortable with this system. I knew when I was smart, hard-working, and capable of success. And then, poof. No more grades. What was the new measure of success? Was it food on the table? Money? Hours spent in prayer? Books I had read? (Cue existential crisis #3)

After about four months of everything from “I’m okay” to “oh wait am I literally dying” moments I started to think about what my parents had said. I knew that my college experience was indeed real life, but it was nothing like what I could expect the rest of my life to look like. The majority of the world does not live the way college students do (thank God).

People don’t fit neatly into categories.

Friendships and love require lots of hard work and rarely come naturally.

Success is different to every person, you will never look successful to every person you encounter.

The “real world” is different. It is a change. It feels nothing like all of the life experience you have ever had. This unknown is hard to get used to and at first feels a lot like failure and loss and all of the bad things you fear. But this change is just that, different.

Transitions will come through out your entire life. Navigating the newness of marriage and parenthood and retirement and every other chapter can easily catch us off guard when different = bad. Learning who you are in each chapter comes back to knowing who you are in Christ. The changing chapters will never out weigh the importance of following God. We can’t predict our stories, but we can know that the Author has our best ending already written.

We can never know the bigger picture in this life, yet somehow, we have to know it is so much more important than this moment. Faith is what gives us the power to conquer fear. God moves in transition. Count on it.

The person I thought I would become is very different from the person I am.

When I sent my application into Lee University I imagined where I would be in the Fall of 2017. I would be engaged. I would be working, doing whatever it is that people do in PR. I would have been involved in a few areas of campus. My friend group from summer honors would hang out together every week, just as tight knit as we were during those two weeks. I would have made it through the best two years of my life, learning and growing into this incredible person. You know, safely following God deeper than my feet could ever wander (can I get an amen?).

I loved my plan, my dreams. I prayed that God would grant me my prayers for this incredible life changing experience.

But, wait a minute, with all of these safety nets and sources of validation, where was the life change?

If you ever read anything from my old blog you know that going into Lee I hard-core struggled to go day-to-day without knowing the purpose of my life. I have been frustrated over and over by unanswered prayers and all of those situations that force me to be still and know that He is God. Every encounter was a quick, harsh, judgement. Yes, this is it. My best friend, my new roommate, my first love, my college, my major, my career. This is the answered prayer, right? I was a one and done kind of gal.

Entering into relationships and commitment, I didn’t question my own judgement. I followed open doors, just hoping that these were the doors that would lead me to the right destination. There was rarely “prayerful consideration”. There was mostly “yes”.

Now, where did that get me? Honestly, in a lot of cases, into some really great places. The issue came about when I started to lose myself to the situation I had entered myself into. I took on identities based on learning experiences. Instead of seeing a path, I set up camp, hoping that the outside world would just let me be. I didn’t want the plan to change.

But when this April hit, I realized that my time was running out. The identities and titles were stripped away. All of my “God-given-masks” were lifted. It was me, God, and a brand new season.

And I was crushed.

It hit me that I was still on a journey. Lee had not been the final destination. As soon as the plans changed I threw my hands up, saying I don’t know if I can do this. 

One of the best things that has ever happened to me was having my comfort stripped away.

As I pushed further and further to try to find myself again, I was finally forced to look outside of myself. I had to cling to my family and my community. I had to ask God the hard questions. I had to seek His peace. I had to be broken enough to ask Him to put me back together.

I’ve learned that my belonging can’t come from anything I can do. My belonging can’t come from anything I can be.

My sense of self, my purpose, must always be to love God and know him more. Learning that I can never satisfy myself, that I won’t meet my expectations, I won’t follow my own plan, taught me that the only thing that will ever satisfy me is looking at my life the way that God does.

Everything is temporary, my brothers and sisters. We have nothing to cling to. No expectations for tomorrow. All we can do is be grateful for everything given to us. The plan is to follow Him with everything we can. Our plan should never to be to make a name for ourselves. I want your favorite part about me to be how I earnestly seek after the Lord.

So I am done writing my own plans and giving myself directions. I won’t let you or myself or anyone else decide who I should be. When I became who I wanted to be, that was the problem. I made it about the opinions of anyone other than God.

I am so, so glad that He has reminded me for the 32,473,947,985th time that He is all I need.