2am, and Amy was still working on her project. "I've been a bad student today!" she said. And believe me, Amy is the last person you'd think of when you hear "bad student."
"How did THAT happen?" I asked, as I was getting ready for bed.
"Senior."
Just like that, without any hesitation. Calmly and simply, senior.
When I was a freshman, I was more than ready to go out to the "real world" and start making history. The idea of college seemed insignificant where there were too much to be done out there. Now that I'm a senior, I don't want to get out of this little college world in which I'm, well, rocking. Then the idea of graduating in 5 weeks becomes more nerve-racking than exciting.
Joel and I talked about battling against the materialistic (often referred as the realistic) thoughts in order to do what we really wanted to do. Teaching in Egypt and becoming fluent in Arabic for him, and working for non-profit organizations for me. I thought passion and love were all that mattered. But with this tight monetary reward we'd get by doing what we want to do, we decided that saving for the grad schools we both want to go to was out of question.
But God will provide, my parents always said. He always does.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
home
"Which food comes to your mind when you hear home? Mexican? Korean? American?" Robert asked.
"When I hear the word, I think of my family. No particular food, scent, or place. Just my parents," I replied without hesitation. But that's not all.
I also think of my parents praying out loud constantly throughout the day. I think of my mom singing like an opera singer in the mornings as she fixes breakfast. I think of my dad trying to cuddle with my mom. I think of long family road trips involving deep conversations, jokes, snacks, music, sermons, and some car sickness.
I can easily tell you how much I love Mexico. I can delicately tell you how much I miss Korea. I can now tell you how much I appreciate this small Midwest community in the States. But I can't tell you where my home is.
I used to find great comfort in words such as "our home is in heaven," but Reformed worldview tells me that "our home is on earth as it is in heaven." And I don't mind it. I have faces to imagine when I say home and I will see them soon.
"When I hear the word, I think of my family. No particular food, scent, or place. Just my parents," I replied without hesitation. But that's not all.
I also think of my parents praying out loud constantly throughout the day. I think of my mom singing like an opera singer in the mornings as she fixes breakfast. I think of my dad trying to cuddle with my mom. I think of long family road trips involving deep conversations, jokes, snacks, music, sermons, and some car sickness.
I can easily tell you how much I love Mexico. I can delicately tell you how much I miss Korea. I can now tell you how much I appreciate this small Midwest community in the States. But I can't tell you where my home is.
I used to find great comfort in words such as "our home is in heaven," but Reformed worldview tells me that "our home is on earth as it is in heaven." And I don't mind it. I have faces to imagine when I say home and I will see them soon.
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