Joy: (n.) 1) sitting with my closest friends at Biola while eating Froot Loops, looking at a double rainbow, discussing worship music, and getting class credit for it. 2) Rachmaninoff.

The Truly Human Things

I am convinced that the majority of what we do as humans is not meant to be the crux of our existence. I (and many of my peers at college here) have spent most of this semester filling out paperwork, writing and editing papers about topics we usually aren't passionate about, scheduling time into our lives to breathe, worrying about finances, worrying about having enough time, worrying about what the future holds, worrying about whether our majors are applicable in this economy, trying to fix stubborn computers and trying to fit a lot of classes into a very short amount of time. I don't think this is what I was made to do.

I was made to grow, to learn, to think, to pray, to love, to read, to write, to share, to have joy. Instead I find myself forgetting about all of these things for large chunks of time. I forget that God wants me to be joyful (not happy, but joyful). While humanity was created to work, I think we are meant to enjoy our work. College is a time to do this. It is the one time in my life where I will work closely with people who genuinely care about me and my personal growth and where my "job" of being a student includes meeting with those in authority over me to talk about how I'm growing as a person and follower of Christ. I am incredibly thankful for this oppurtunity, but at the same time I wish it wasn't all crammed into four years. We are so busy making the most of this oppurtunity that we don't have time to love, to be loved, to rest, to think, to mold our hearts into lovers of what is good, true, and beautiful. Instead I am too busy worrying whether I will have time to finish everything (and I'm not even taking a full 18 units this semester) that I don't have time to stop and just be.

A few months ago I wrote about how I was sick of just "being." I wanted to move on to doing something. I now want the reverse. I want time to be an Torrey student who actually understands the text for once. I want time to go to the beach. I want to talk for hours with my friends and not feel like I'm neglecting the 500 pages of Dostoyevsky that still need to be read. I want to return to the truly human things. I want to read good books, talk about theology, wade in a creek, dance, bake bread, laugh, drink tea. I want to be human, not a machine that must finish task X before five o'clock.

Surprised by Joy

I sat in my room, reading Psalms while sipping blueberry pomegranate tea and crunching on granola, listening to Rachmaninoff after having talked and laughed with some of my friends in the lobby just down the hall: a perfect end to any day. I was happy, joyful, excited for Missions Conference tomorrow, thankful to be in Torrey, and intrigued by the recent Torrey mystery.

Then I stumbled across a verse that described exactly how I felt.

"...in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy."
~Psalm 63:7, ESV

Those words describe what I feel. Even though I'm still unsure what I will be doing this summer, how I will pay for the next year at Biola, or if I'll get the jobs I hope to, I will sing for joy, if only because I live in the shadow of His wings.