You. Yes, you. Asbury student. Random unaffiliated reader. You. What do you want?
Not: “What are you willing to settle for?” “What is your best worst-case scenario?” “What wouldn’t you mind?”
What do you want?
When is the last time you asked yourself that?
In a report titled “Forging Pathways to Purposeful Work,” Gallup and Bates College discovered that out of the 95% of four-year-college graduates who considered a sense of purpose important in choosing where to work, only 40% said they had found a meaningful career. Worse, only 26% liked what they were doing.
Since returning to campus this year, one question has come up again and again in conversations with peers and professors: “How does it feel to be a senior?” My knee-jerk response? A joke about not wanting to get kicked out of Asbury. It is easier to joke about it than think about it. But when it is another senior asking, the conversation turns more serious. To hopes. And dreams. Or the terrifying lack of dreams.
What do we want?
Beloved Class. Class of scarlet whose shirts are anything but scarlet. Class of seven months until we meet the world. Class of out of time. Do we know what we want? Is it the same thing we wanted when we first got to Asbury? Have we lost it along the way?
Out of my four years of high school Spanish, there are three lessons that have stuck with me the most. The first is to underline every important word in an essay question (AP exams always try to trick you with those essay questions). The second is to always make sure to pronounce the word for ‘years’ with a ‘ñ’ instead of a ‘n.’ The third is that there are two ways of saying because.
When someone asks you why you are walking in Spanish, you can choose to give them the ‘por qué’ answer: “Because my mother told me to.” “Because it is nice outside.” “Because I like my new walking shoes.” ‘Por qué’ is a response to something. It comes second. But there is also ‘para qué.’ Rather than in reaction, ‘para qué’ is pointed ahead. It talks about what we hope comes from our actions: “Because I am going to the place I want to be.”
I wish that English had two words for “because.”
Rather than asking again, let me acknowledge an awful truth. Once we get out of Asbury, no one is going to ask us what we want. The doors that open for us will not be determined by the boss of our dream job showing up and granting us our hidden wish. Future employers will not ask us our desires. Instead, they will ask what we have done.
In ‘Mere Christianity,’ C. S. Lewis talks about the transformation of a soul (either into a heavenly creature or a hellish one) through a thousand tiny decisions made over a lifetime. The same principle is true of our desires.
Wanting something is not the same thing as daydreaming about it. Too many times during my time at Asbury, I have had the same conversation with my peers. About how busy we are. About how we do not have time to do the things we want to do. About how we will pursue our goals when we are not so tired. But wanting is not an act of thought. It is an act of will.
If we truly want something, we want to do what it takes to pursue it. If we do not want to do what it takes to pursue it, we do not really want it.
This is not true for everyone. We are blessed at Asbury to live in a time and a place and a circumstance where we have the ability to chase the things we dream about. There are those who are not so fortunate, but we are. We have the ability to want through action. To pursue. To grow. To change the little dial of our lives and souls and habits toward the people we want to be and the adventures we want to experience.
And to ask ourselves whether, looking honestly at our lives, we really like what our actions claim we want.
