"OK, major problem," said my friend Melanie dramatically as we poked at our cafeteria food. "My mom said I can't buy the red stilettos to match my homecoming dress! What am I supposed to do?" I rolled my eyes. Wow, how did she even get up in the morning? I tried to be nice. OK, I sort of tried. "Hey Mel, I hear if you cry about it, it usually works itself out." Our friend Brianna was a little more sympathetic. "Don't worry," she said, looking up from her magazine. "Jason won't be looking at your feet." The conversation ended well—Mel was encouraged and Brianna was able to get back to choosing potential homecoming hairstyles from her magazine. Everyone was happy. Except me. I couldn't stop wondering, Why am I not excited about this? Homecoming was supposed to be one of the highlights of the year, especially for seniors. We'd waited forever to be at the top. But I just wasn't feeling it. A few hours later I figured out why. When my last class was over, I grabbed my keys, which jangled on a key ring from Wheaton College, my top college pick. I threw on my trucker hat, which sported Wheaton's logo, and headed out to my car, which already had a college sticker neatly applied to the back windshield. Even though it was October. And even though I hadn't yet been accepted to Wheaton. And that's when I figured out my problem: I wanted to be in college so much, I couldn't connect with what was right in front of me. It was senioritis. It wasn't just at school, either. I was sick of my church youth group, sick of living at home with all my parents' rules, just sick of being treated like a teenager in general. I felt like I'd been ready for college my whole life. My dad went to Wheaton College. Ever since I was a kid I'd wanted to go there too. I got to hear all about how great it was from my sister, who was a sophomore there. So I started pulling away from everything that reminded me I was still in high school. I quit going to basketball games and class parties. I started to feel like my friends' everyday concerns were immature. I reluctantly went to youth group (even though it was so 11th grade). And I found it increasingly difficult to be happy for my super-happy sister in college. Her life seemed so exciting and interesting compared to mine. Discovering My Weakness
A few weeks after my conversation with Melanie and Brianna, I met Jennifer, an eighth-grader at my church. She was visiting our youth group, but she wasn't a Christian. She lived near my house, so I started driving her every week to youth group. Jennifer was extremely shy, but I found to my surprise that I looked forward to our 15 minutes in the car every week. After a few weeks, I found out she'd never heard about Jesus before. It blew me away. When I told her his story for the first time, her eyes widened in awe—it made the gospel message come alive for me all over again. Eventually, Jennifer and I went with the youth group to a weekend retreat. When it came time for the closing song and altar call, she grabbed my hand and we walked to the front of the auditorium together. Afterward, we prayed together and she accepted Christ as her Savior. If I could pinpoint the exact moment my senioritis was cured, I'd have to say it was during that prayer. I realized that while I was feeling restless and bored in my life, God was doing an incredible thing in someone else's. I began to wonder what would happen if I was as open to God as Jennifer was—and not just in the future, but right then and there, during my senior year of high school. Later, as I was reflecting on the retreat and paging through my Bible, I came across 2 Corinthians 12:9: "And he has said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness'" (NIV). I hadn't thought about my senioritis being an actual weakness before, but it was so true. God's grace was at work through my life, even when I was weak. And that grace would be enough to help me live fully in the present. Getting Past Myself
As a brand-new Christian, Jennifer had so many questions, so much passion, and now, so much hope. It just made sense that we'd study the Bible together. And it suddenly felt like my last year at home had a special purpose. My dad helped me find a great book for new believers, and our study took off. We both grew so much together, right up until the week before I left for college. While Jennifer helped me get excited about youth group and church again, I knew I needed to reconnect with my friends at school. So I started going with some classmates to a Tuesday night worship service and I made a point to go to the class parties and dances. Yes, I still had to suffer through a few more conversations about shoes. But as I learned to lighten up, my friends and I had a blast together. Sometimes I still got restless and impatient. But God had me where I was for a reason, and I learned that he could use me if I would just make myself available to him. That meant being present at school, in body and in spirit. It meant getting excited about youth group events. And most of all, it meant putting others before myself. When I did those things, the wait became a lot easier. Sarah Nutter is a sophomore at Wheaton College in Wheaton, Illinois. Copyright © 2007 by the author or Christianity Today International/Campus Life magazine.
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