I went to a lecture tonight about possibly working with Wheatstone in the future. Because it is run by Torrey people, it is just as nerdy as Torrey, and I love it.
The speaker outlined the two dominant Torrey alumni dream lives. I found this hilarious because I want both of those things, too.
Option #1: Live in a little cottage in the mountains with your family where you have children and raise them to love God and books while you read poetry, love art, write books, discuss everything and tend to your garden or apple orchard.
Option #2: The life outlined in Dr. Reynold's Torrientation speech, where you spend four intense years learning about great books, God, goodness, truth, beauty, and Plato, then go out and change the world because the fate of Western civilization lies on our shoulders.
Needless to say, this is hard to reconcile because I desperately want to do both. But I think it can be done some way. (And the speaker gave us ideas, and didn't just let us ponder it for two hours like a Torrey tutor would.) And I want to do it. I want to live a virtuous life, engage the culture in the intellectual life it is missing, mentor teenagers, write blog posts, live in the mountains with goats and chickens, and rock the world.
I love being a Torrey nerd. I love the people I get to be nerdy with, I love the tutors and mentors, I love the challenge, the books, the thoughts, community, the jokes, the world-changing attitude, the encouragement to live for God and be the best you can be. I want to bring this to more people. I want high school students to see the adventure in learning and learn not for the sake of the grade, but for the sake of the betterment of their souls. I want to show teenagers that thinking is awesome and wonderful and much more satisfying than television. I want to teach world-changers in the same way that I am being taught to change the world.
And now to get into the practical application of all this: reading Augustine and figuring out a thesis for my paper.
(I apologize to all the non-Torrey people out there who have no idea what I am talking about.)
Showing posts with label passions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label passions. Show all posts
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
I Am So Sick of Just Being
I'm tired of being in passing. Of being, hoping, wishing, planning, and thinking. I want to do. I want to change the world, cry out to God, dance for joy, roll down the windows and sing my heart out, have a really philosophical discussion that alters someone's life, work so hard that I am covered in sweat, get sunburned from chopping weeds for so long, clean the whole house, run until I can't run anymore, fight the system. And I want to succeed. I want to throw all of my being into something and live it fully. I want to do that with my walk with Christ. I want to live it so thoroughly that I feel God, His love, and His mercy. I want to have passion for what I do that is so strong and fueled by my stubborness to such an extreme that God alone can stop me from acting.
I'm sick of this "just being" business. This apathetic, media-drenched, half-way-sufficient, over-commercialized, brain-dead, thoughtless, mouthy, death-obsessed, lazy, rude, crass generation and culture. Where is our desire to live? Where is our desire to find answers? Where is our heart for the world? Where is our pull to explore? We're Americans. We believe that hard work gets us anywhere. So why have we given up on it? This generation of Americans doesn't believe that hard work can get us anything we want; we believe the government, Amazon.com, Youtube, Hulu, iTunes, and Facebook gets us anything we want. Where's our honest nature? Our unwavering stance on what is moral? Our urgency to fight anything that contradicts God's law? What happened to those morals that our founding fathers had? We now settle for what is easy, even if it means breaking some moral boundaries. We run to the classes that give easy A's, the job that makes a lot without requiring a lot of work, the minimum work with maximum benefits. Aren't we the nation who is willing to fight against impossible odds for our freedom? Aren't we a nation of pioneers who left their homeland and fought drought, flood, famine, snowdrifts, Indians, and wild animals just so we could have a piece of land to call our own? Aren't we the "rugged individualists," the adventurers, the pioneers, the founders, the fighters? What has happened to us?
We now prefer having something handed to us on a silver plate, even if its not really ours. As long as we get the easy life, we don't care what strings are attached. We don't care that we aren't living whole-heartedly for God. We don't care that others have control over our destinies. What happened to our American, our human desire to live? To live every moment as if it was our last? To live each day as if God was watching? To look at each person as a child of God? To take every oppurtunity to praise Him, love Him, learn about Him? Let us live in faith. Faith that He will bless us and lead us if we give all to Him.
I'm sick of this "just being" business. This apathetic, media-drenched, half-way-sufficient, over-commercialized, brain-dead, thoughtless, mouthy, death-obsessed, lazy, rude, crass generation and culture. Where is our desire to live? Where is our desire to find answers? Where is our heart for the world? Where is our pull to explore? We're Americans. We believe that hard work gets us anywhere. So why have we given up on it? This generation of Americans doesn't believe that hard work can get us anything we want; we believe the government, Amazon.com, Youtube, Hulu, iTunes, and Facebook gets us anything we want. Where's our honest nature? Our unwavering stance on what is moral? Our urgency to fight anything that contradicts God's law? What happened to those morals that our founding fathers had? We now settle for what is easy, even if it means breaking some moral boundaries. We run to the classes that give easy A's, the job that makes a lot without requiring a lot of work, the minimum work with maximum benefits. Aren't we the nation who is willing to fight against impossible odds for our freedom? Aren't we a nation of pioneers who left their homeland and fought drought, flood, famine, snowdrifts, Indians, and wild animals just so we could have a piece of land to call our own? Aren't we the "rugged individualists," the adventurers, the pioneers, the founders, the fighters? What has happened to us?
We now prefer having something handed to us on a silver plate, even if its not really ours. As long as we get the easy life, we don't care what strings are attached. We don't care that we aren't living whole-heartedly for God. We don't care that others have control over our destinies. What happened to our American, our human desire to live? To live every moment as if it was our last? To live each day as if God was watching? To look at each person as a child of God? To take every oppurtunity to praise Him, love Him, learn about Him? Let us live in faith. Faith that He will bless us and lead us if we give all to Him.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
On Books and Growing Up
I grew up reading books. For Christmas one year, I asked for "a book with lots of pages." I was thinking dictionary-sized, but I was too young to know what a dictionary was. So my mom got me a children's books about a mouse that discovers the Bible. Not what I had in mind, but I liked it anyway.
Ironically, I hated learning to read. The books were hard to read and were boring when you could understand what the words said. The only thing that kept me going (besides the fact that I didn't have much choice) was my dad telling me, "Readers are leaders and leaders are readers." I wanted to be in charge of something when I was "all grown-up"- I didn't care what- but that meant I had to read.
In elementary school, I always had a book with me. I read when I finished my work, I read during recess, and I probably got in trouble for reading during class. Whenever my family went on long road trips (which was often), my mom would buy us a new book or two to keep us occupied in the down-time. The worst punishment in my family was "going to bed without a story." My mom would read aloud to us every night until I was eleven or so. Then, I would read books, then dress up and act out the parts of the female main character. My mom spent countless hours sewing dresses, bonnets, capes, and skirts for me. (Then I discovered thrift stores and my costume hunting took place there, instead. But I still haven't outgrown that urge to dress up in long skirts like the heroines of old). And it all stemmed from books. Even now, my room is full of not only school books, but also children's books, young adult books, and novels.
For my first two years of high school, I adored books. I always had one with me. I had my preferences, but I read almost anything. Then I discovered people. I realized that although books were wonderful, people were like living books to me. The "best friend" relationships in books could happen in real life. There were people who had lived exciting things and could tell me about with a twinkle of the eye and the expressive tone that I missed in reading. For that reason (and due to too much homework), I stopped reading for fun during my junior year of high school. I read philosophy homework, economics textbooks, and political articles for debate, instead. I still read the occassional fun book (and books for English classes), but the novels I usually carried to class to read during passing periods were gone. They were replaced by wonderful conversations and genuine smiles. But I still missed those books. Especially the feel of a book in my hands.
College brought back the wonder of books to me, combined with the joy of being with people. In college, I read stories again, instead of textbooks. I read fiction again for the first time in a long time. There were characters to relate to (and analyze, now that I was older). But the best part was that it was not just me reading the book. In college, I read it with people by my side, reading the same book, and enjoying it with me, and discussing it to no end. We bonded over books. We stayed up to all hours reading. We had "study parties" during which we read for hours straight. That feeling brought together my early years of loving books and my teenage years of loving people. I cannot think of a better way to end my childhood.
Ironically, I hated learning to read. The books were hard to read and were boring when you could understand what the words said. The only thing that kept me going (besides the fact that I didn't have much choice) was my dad telling me, "Readers are leaders and leaders are readers." I wanted to be in charge of something when I was "all grown-up"- I didn't care what- but that meant I had to read.
In elementary school, I always had a book with me. I read when I finished my work, I read during recess, and I probably got in trouble for reading during class. Whenever my family went on long road trips (which was often), my mom would buy us a new book or two to keep us occupied in the down-time. The worst punishment in my family was "going to bed without a story." My mom would read aloud to us every night until I was eleven or so. Then, I would read books, then dress up and act out the parts of the female main character. My mom spent countless hours sewing dresses, bonnets, capes, and skirts for me. (Then I discovered thrift stores and my costume hunting took place there, instead. But I still haven't outgrown that urge to dress up in long skirts like the heroines of old). And it all stemmed from books. Even now, my room is full of not only school books, but also children's books, young adult books, and novels.
For my first two years of high school, I adored books. I always had one with me. I had my preferences, but I read almost anything. Then I discovered people. I realized that although books were wonderful, people were like living books to me. The "best friend" relationships in books could happen in real life. There were people who had lived exciting things and could tell me about with a twinkle of the eye and the expressive tone that I missed in reading. For that reason (and due to too much homework), I stopped reading for fun during my junior year of high school. I read philosophy homework, economics textbooks, and political articles for debate, instead. I still read the occassional fun book (and books for English classes), but the novels I usually carried to class to read during passing periods were gone. They were replaced by wonderful conversations and genuine smiles. But I still missed those books. Especially the feel of a book in my hands.
College brought back the wonder of books to me, combined with the joy of being with people. In college, I read stories again, instead of textbooks. I read fiction again for the first time in a long time. There were characters to relate to (and analyze, now that I was older). But the best part was that it was not just me reading the book. In college, I read it with people by my side, reading the same book, and enjoying it with me, and discussing it to no end. We bonded over books. We stayed up to all hours reading. We had "study parties" during which we read for hours straight. That feeling brought together my early years of loving books and my teenage years of loving people. I cannot think of a better way to end my childhood.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Deepest Gladness and Deep Need
My friend Jessica Carter passed on a jewel of a quote to me last week, and it has been on my mind ever since.
"The place to where God has called you is where your deepest gladness meets the world's deep need." -Frederick Beuchner
I thought long and hard about this. I get joy out of writing. Sometimes. I used to think it was my deepest gladness, but hours of staring at a blank computer screen have taught me otherwise. Writing is more accurately one of my favorite pastimes, my way of escaping from the crazy world of college and being in control of something for once. It's therapuetic. My way of procrastinating. But only when it is done my way. Which means that writing for a career may not be a swell idea.
My deepest gladness so far in college has been being around people. Talking with people, working with people, playing games with people. More accurately, I love kids. I long each day to hold an infant, help a toddler learn to walk, play catch with a 5-year-old, play dress up with a 10-year-old (do 10-year-old girls even play dress-up anymore?), help a 13-year-old with her homework, and talk about life with a 16-year old. I love getting to know a small group of people so well that they know my loves and hates, and I know theirs.
The world's deepest need part ties in quite well with children. Children are the ones mistreated by this world in so many ways because they are so innocent. Children are the ones who are abused, neglected, spoiled, hurt, sold into slavery, and even murdered and are completely incapable of doing anything against it because oftentimes they don't even know their abusers are wrong for doing so. I want to change that.
My dream is to set up a home for children like these. They could be taught how to live like Christ. How to be disciplined. How to do hard work. How to love others. Basically, I want to spend my life loving on kids who didn't know love existed.
That's where my deepest gladness meets the world's deep need.
"The place to where God has called you is where your deepest gladness meets the world's deep need." -Frederick Beuchner
I thought long and hard about this. I get joy out of writing. Sometimes. I used to think it was my deepest gladness, but hours of staring at a blank computer screen have taught me otherwise. Writing is more accurately one of my favorite pastimes, my way of escaping from the crazy world of college and being in control of something for once. It's therapuetic. My way of procrastinating. But only when it is done my way. Which means that writing for a career may not be a swell idea.
My deepest gladness so far in college has been being around people. Talking with people, working with people, playing games with people. More accurately, I love kids. I long each day to hold an infant, help a toddler learn to walk, play catch with a 5-year-old, play dress up with a 10-year-old (do 10-year-old girls even play dress-up anymore?), help a 13-year-old with her homework, and talk about life with a 16-year old. I love getting to know a small group of people so well that they know my loves and hates, and I know theirs.
The world's deepest need part ties in quite well with children. Children are the ones mistreated by this world in so many ways because they are so innocent. Children are the ones who are abused, neglected, spoiled, hurt, sold into slavery, and even murdered and are completely incapable of doing anything against it because oftentimes they don't even know their abusers are wrong for doing so. I want to change that.
My dream is to set up a home for children like these. They could be taught how to live like Christ. How to be disciplined. How to do hard work. How to love others. Basically, I want to spend my life loving on kids who didn't know love existed.
That's where my deepest gladness meets the world's deep need.
Friday, August 6, 2010
My Passion
I love kids. All kids from infancy to teenagerdom. Actually, I love kids before infancy because I think they're the living handywork of God, then, too. I want to spend much of my time with these kids. Kids make me feel tired, but not in a "I can't deal with them anymore" way, but more in a "I feel like I've given something back" kind of way.
One day, while I was housesitting, and idea came to me quite suddenly. Why not set up a ranch for kids in troubled situations? Anything from rebelliousness to kids who are abused to even kids who have some type of handicap. This idea took many forms as I thought about it in the last few weeks. I thought about adopting kids and taking in foster kids. I thought about setting up a ranch get-away type thing.
No matter how the fine details work out, there are some things about it which I am passionate about. I want these kids to learn the value of hard work. I want them to learn the value of love. And I want this to be in a Christian environment. Those are the three absolute "Musts." Then there are the "Maybes." These points include homeschooling the kids who are living on the ranch, raising chickens, having nightly worship, and teaching the kids to cook and deal with animals. I even have "maybe" idea of using the barn that my family has as the living/dining quarters. My dad built that barn, but sort of loss his passion for building and maintaining it. I've always loved that place and never wanted him to sell it. We set it up so that, if necessary, it could be adapted to live in. In my seventeen-year-old eyes, it would be perfect with enough fixing up.
I know God gave me this idea and this passion for a reason. I have no idea how the finer points will work out, how the legalities will play out, and if this will change my major for college. I'm letting God worry about all of that. But when I have such a powerful idea that I can't go to sleep at night at midnight until I've written out all my ideas and looked up Bible passages about it, then I know it's an idea from God.
One day, while I was housesitting, and idea came to me quite suddenly. Why not set up a ranch for kids in troubled situations? Anything from rebelliousness to kids who are abused to even kids who have some type of handicap. This idea took many forms as I thought about it in the last few weeks. I thought about adopting kids and taking in foster kids. I thought about setting up a ranch get-away type thing.
No matter how the fine details work out, there are some things about it which I am passionate about. I want these kids to learn the value of hard work. I want them to learn the value of love. And I want this to be in a Christian environment. Those are the three absolute "Musts." Then there are the "Maybes." These points include homeschooling the kids who are living on the ranch, raising chickens, having nightly worship, and teaching the kids to cook and deal with animals. I even have "maybe" idea of using the barn that my family has as the living/dining quarters. My dad built that barn, but sort of loss his passion for building and maintaining it. I've always loved that place and never wanted him to sell it. We set it up so that, if necessary, it could be adapted to live in. In my seventeen-year-old eyes, it would be perfect with enough fixing up.
I know God gave me this idea and this passion for a reason. I have no idea how the finer points will work out, how the legalities will play out, and if this will change my major for college. I'm letting God worry about all of that. But when I have such a powerful idea that I can't go to sleep at night at midnight until I've written out all my ideas and looked up Bible passages about it, then I know it's an idea from God.
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