May 13, 2011

Hillsdale, I love you.

When you’re young and in school, the question always is: what did you learn today? Or, what did you learn this year?

I’ve been thinking about that question while packing up my room. Although I have learned about Bastiat’s theory of a just law, the dates of Jonathan Edwards’ birth and death, how to write a good nut graph, and how to make a London Fog, there is something so much deeper happening.


I realize more and more everyday how much this place is softening, humbling, me. I am learning what a gentle and quiet spirit looks like, learning how to humbly encourage others, how to gently confront. I am discovering the paradoxical beauty of reality as it truly is - full of suffering and pain, but also stunningly gorgeous. I am learning that humility is quiet service, honesty and vulnerability with friends, and words that build up instead of tear down. I’m discovering that I actually might like poetry, that there are few things better for the soul than a half an hour of silence, and how pleasant bird song is - it helps you wake up after very little sleep the night before.

This place is so much more than the books, the papers, and the classes. It is the beauty that flows through them into our real lives. Here we learn how to think humbly, and how to walk wisely. We discover that there is more to this world than ourselves, so much more than our egos and our grades. There are people to love and serve, places to throw all of our effort into, and new truths to be discovered.


At Hillsdale, we learn the beauty in the ordinary. After a long winter, there is nothing like a green blade of grass, or the first warm rays of sunshine. We love the brick sidewalks, the contrast of the white clock tower against the blue sky, and the comfort of a friend’s presence, even when there’s nothing to say. No one minds having a class in the basement at three in the afternoon when we are surrounded by friends and taught by a professor who has nothing but encouragement and kindness towards his students.

The longer I am here, the more I love this place. The more it feels like home. I have always been scared of being mailable, of being affected by things. But it hurts to say goodbye this year, and it hurts because I am learning how to treasure these things. I am discovering how precious life here is, and I am letting it sink in. Deeply.


Without my knowledge, I am being softened. And it’s a good, good thing.

1 comment:

Rebekah Daphne said...

I love this, I love Hillsdale, and I love you. I know that it's difficult to say goodbye to the place-- and you aren't even leaving permanently!-- but some of us will be glad to see you home. :)