Time never seizes to amaze me. It’s already April and there’s less than two months of school left. My first year as a student living in New York City has been quite interesting, to say the least. I still can’t believe the year’s almost over, ’cause it felt like it all started just yesterday…
Around this time of year exactly 3 years ago, I was a senior in high school that wanted nothing more than to graduate and move on up in the world. I was so excited to leave home that I didn’t care my parents wouldn’t let me apply to an Art school. I was upset, but more importantly, I just wanted out. Around this time of year exactly 2 years ago, I was a freshman at a state university who had no idea what she wanted. All I knew is that I didn’t want to stay. I loved the people, but I wanted purpose. Around this time of year exactly 1 year ago, I was accepted to Parsons and, again, wanted nothing more than to move on up in the world. And here I am today, looking forward to the year ahead on how I can keep going… go further. For these very reasons, I know I was meant to live in the city. And I don’t say this with pride. If there’s anything I’ve learned this past year, it’s that New York is the place for people that love to ‘do’ and ‘go’, and I’ve become a ‘go’-er. Apathetic to the what’s and why’s of things that are done, I’ve found it difficult to see past the mundane rituals of life. I’m fully aware this could apply to anyone at any given place, depending on their own life perspectives, but in this city especially, people just want to keep going… go further.
As much as dwelling on things like ‘heaven’ and ‘faith’ could be considered second-rate priorities, I’m fighting to “keep my bubble stretched”. Last year, when I went on missions to New Orleans, I witnessed the goodness of God in my every day, and my leader reminded me that the joy I feel serving the God that loves me unconditionally will begin to shrink once I step back into my own personal life at home and at school. I felt ready to prove him wrong, but he told me to fight for it nonetheless. Of course, he was exactly right and my bubble did shrink. Very, very small.
But lately, I’m beginning to wonder about those what’s and why’s again. What I really came here to do, and why… I know I’m prone to wander far and wide, but I can’t go for too long without knowing my real purpose in doing anything, and that’s when I’m convinced that the Gospel has me. When I read through Luke 7 about the prostitute that washes Jesus’ feet, I know he’s talking about me. And when I read through Luke 15 about the lost sheep, I know he’s always looking. I’m determined to keep my bubble stretched for the sake of knowing that I am who I am only because of that gift of grace that frees me from my sins every freaking day, and hopefully around this time of year next year, I’ll still be mindful of wanting to keep going… go further… not for ambition but for Him.
