Smeagol is Free!
A hermitudinal view of...stuff...



"Why would you leave Hawai'i to come to a place like Kentucky?"

That question is definitely in the top five questions asked by people when I speak to them about Boyce College. I'll approach the answer to that differently, depending upon my mood and whom I'm addressing, but I'll invariably say one thing: being here is about being obedient to the Lord.

When I first came here, I can remember weeks where it felt like I cried every day. The first Christmas away from home was no better; I wanted to kill Scott when he told me there had to be "a first time." Thankfully, he proved a far better friend than I deserve, not only telling me what I needed to hear when I didn't want to hear it, but also sticking to the conviction of that statement. These days, the prospects of the holiday season spent away from home is hardly daunting; if anything, it's become a normal endeavor.

I'm also often asked if I miss home.


Missing home isn't what it once was, though. I've told Boss time and time again that I have it far easier than he does, because being here for me, unlike being in Japan for him, is comfortable. I know the lay of the land, the people, and the language. And to be honest, I don't feel the desire to be home quite so keenly as I once did; rather, it's a slow and steady burn that warms my heart, reminding me of where I came from, where I want to be.

All of this adds up to something both wonderful and dangerous. It's wonderful because I can look around and see many, many, many blessings that I can thank the Lord for; dangerous, because my pride can take those blessings and quickly turn me away from the Lord, causing me to forget my deep, deep, deep need and desire for Him. That is, I'm finding, the two-edged cut of living life here. When I'm seeking the Lord, giving thanks to Him for His blessings in Christ, and trusting in His infinite grace and lavish love, my heart sings with praise to Him; there's no need for the rocks to cry out. But when I allow my pride to harden my heart and look to receive praise from others, I end up neglecting to humbly and joyfully drink from the fountain of living waters. As a result, my soul quickly becomes parched and stripped of joy.

There's no boast in being obedient to the Lord, just humble thanksgiving and trust in His covenant faithfulness. Am I to be considered heroic, merely because I've been able to leave a place I love and embrace a vague future that's being shaped four thousand miles from home? Hardly; merely blessed, just like every other saint. But oh, what blessing!

posted by Bolo | 5:42 PM
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