An Extended Prayer

Dear Lord,

As I pray this prayer, I kneel over my desk chair, elbows resting on its seat. I can’t pray over my bed anymore because I’m no longer at home on Long Island and my new bed is lofted so I can save space in my small dorm. As You already know, this is because I’m now at college in Hillsdale, Michigan. Of course, You know this because You sent me here, just as You did every single one of my classmates, who I now call my fellow Chargers. I find myself praying a lot recently, thanking You at every opportunity, yet I don’t think I will ever be able to express the sheer gratitude that lives in my heart of hearts and soul of souls.

Generally, colleges boast that receiving tutelage at their institution is a “transformative experience.” Judging by the abundance of educational malpractice as a whole, I must beg to differ. Often, I’ve observed, those who go to college seek (successfully) affirmation of preexisting habits and interests, the only “transformation” being the very chiseling of a student’s existing worldview into his soul, often with dubious curricula and questionable character. 

As an incoming student in the Class of 2030, I believed this was how Hillsdale (to some extent) also worked. As I interpreted it, my admission to the College essentially meant, “you’re fit to attend our prestigious institution, no further questions asked!” I, too, believed that college would transform me from someone with a few loose interests into someone whose habits were inseparable from her intellectual pursuits. 

When, at Freshman Convocation, Hillsdale’s President, Dr. Larry Arnn, first addressed the Class of 2030 as (in one way or another) a bunch of fatuous leeches, I learned that the transformation that Hillsdale speaks of is quite different than that of the common school.

Other post-secondary institutions do not promise this to their equally idiotic (according to Dr. Arnn, I’m sure) student body, which, I suppose, is part of the reason why, approaching two centuries of history, the College’s body consists of a mere 1,800 students. In fact, Dr. Arnn made it very clear to us and our families that Hillsdale is unique in its mission, and that there is no other school in the world that would afford us such an experience: “You will have to master the fact that it’s harder than what you did before,” and, as if he had not already taken the liberty to do so on our behalf, “that [it] might challenge how well you think of yourself…”

From then on, I developed a fear of my time at Hillsdale akin to the fear I have of You, Lord.

As my family and I drew closer to Michigan with all my life packed in our rental van, I remembered the admitted student’s event I attended last March, where a senior (now graduated) gave prospective students a piece of advice on the Hillsdale experience: “Ask not what your college can do for you, but what you can do for your college!” His voice undulated Kennedy’s enthusiasm as he spoke. The line stuck in my memory and my will. I tried my hardest to approach my freshman orientation with this mindset, yet I couldn’t square this idea with Dr. Arnn’s constant reminders of our relative imbecility, compared to the giants whose shoulders we stand upon. After all, how could I give my all if, compared to everyone who came before me, I don’t have any in the first place? Although the senior admitted that there is a learning curve to acquiring this perspective, I was determined to get it right on the first day to prove that I was meant to be here. Though I made a valiant effort, all I could think about were the opportunities that, instead, this body could have for me. After a few days, I gave up trying, and wondered how rocky this path would actually turn out to be for the savage freshman that I am.

It took about a week to begin to understand this uniquely Hillsdalian way of life, but You provided me with a perfect opportunity.

Last Sunday, one of my resident assistants had her 19th birthday. Upon learning this news, You planted the idea in my head that my hallmates and I should put together a card and surprise her with it that night. A week later, I still watch the video of our happy birthday serenade, as the glimmers in our eyes evoke something I haven’t found anywhere else. It is You, Lord, who showed me meaning in a trivial act of gratitude. That night was the first time I felt a renewal of my mind.

In the midst of campus’ notorious construction, Hillsdale College has also taught me a lot about structural integrity. Any sensible carpenter would never build buttresses upon pillars that lack integrity. Though it may look disrespectful to tear down existing architecture to build anew, it’s important to break down any inconsistencies before making a building greater. Likewise, acceptance into Hillsdale College is not a guarantee that one can handle the struggles that come with four years of study. When one is admitted to this school, the message is, in fact, quite the contrary: “You, unlike the 80% that have not been offered admission, cannot handle our difficult curriculum without noticing your own soul’s deepest flaws. You will be permanently broken down after introduction to the moral ponderances that you will struggle with for the rest of your life. You are unique in that you take to heart the eternal lessons of life more than do most of your peers, but because you do, you must necessarily die as a result of your time at our great Hillsdale College.” While this message is grim, it comes with a promise at the end. The death of the old high school delinquent must occur if one desires a higher calling both as Hillsdale student and a disciple of Christ.

Lord, I am ready to die in order to obtain the wealth of knowledge that will lead me to the life You call me to. Two weeks ago, I came to this school with a solid grasp of who I was, and who I was going to become. Today, I believe Hillsdale College is the only school in which I can confidently and comfortably admit that I have no idea who I am other than a steward of Your word. Regardless, my faith remains steadfast and my spirit remains strong.

This year, I pray for continued understanding of the gravity of every situation You place me in, for my life is a means by which Your will is done. I pray that Your will be done, and that when it is, Your Providence humbles me before my ego blinds me. Lastly, I pray for Hillsdale College, the institution with which You have entrusted with bringing me closer to my high calling.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.