Tonight I registered for my final semester as an undergraduate. It’s kind of bittersweet. I’ve spent the past 3.5 years of my life here in Madison, learning to love so much of this city. So much of me doesn’t want to move on. I know my life here. It’s full of long hours at the library, full of some of the smartest people in the world, full of homework, laughs, love, community, and routine.
But that’s why I go. Jesus didn’t live a comfortable, routine life. His life was hard. He suffered. He lived in the desert for 40 days and 40 nights without food or water. And when Satan tempted him with food, he turned it down. It wasn’t even a temptation because Jesus knew that God was all that he needed. I want to know that. I want to experience that. I don’t want to live the American dream of wealth and comfort. I want God to sustain me.
Jesus came to this earth knowing what was in store for him. He knew that he was going to die for the sins of the world. And he came anyways. He never doubted, but he didn’t go blindly. While on the Mount of Olives, he says “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” Jesus was willing to follow God’s plan even though it meant his death. He recognized that his life is so much more than a life. His life means an eternity for others. His life means a relationship. His life means forgiveness. His life means love. I want to live in such a way that my every action is “not my will, but yours”.
I want to have the faith of Abraham, willing to sacrifice his son, because “he considered that God was able even to raise him from the dead.” I want to have the faith of Moses, “choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than the fleeting pleasures of sin.” I want to have the faith that moves mountains, the faith that believes there is something infinitely better that Christ has provided me.
I have been given this opportunity to spread the love of Christ to the nations. I have been given the opportunity to have my heart broken for what breaks God’s. I have been given an opportunity to break free of the ties of America. It’s terrifying, and there are days that I would rather do anything else after graduation than do this. There seem to be so many hurdles in the way. So many excuses I could make. “Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.”
That’s why I go. To live without, in order to live with.
