Milk and Cookies Remix
Thanks to Jason's esteemed words following my previous entry, I feel the need to offer an addendum to "Milk and Cookies." First some background. For those of you who did not read my ramblings yesterday, I can sum things up in a few words: "Nathan = paralyzing apathy." Jason wisely pointed out that we need to cling to good memories of the past while anxiously awaiting those to come—he is correct.
A significant part of my sleepwalking stems from the disconnect that I feel here in Lawrence. I went from a great group of friends and involvement at Wartburg to a nice group of friends with partial involvement at Iowa, and finally to KU with no involvement and only a few casual acquaintances. As Jason mentioned, our time at Wartburg held a fair share of drinking, but the libations were merely a complement to hordes of fantastic discussions. Particularly during senior year, I went out, most every night, with a group of unbelievably smart and informed friends. We didn't just drink while discussing sports and the hot girl at the pool table. We talked about everything from politics, to religion, movies, music, and literature (yes, girls and sports regularly made the list). These weren't just superficial conversations like "I grew up Baptist and I believe this." Instead the topics demanded backing up your opinions with well-thought reasoning for your beliefs. Certainly these memories are influenced by the haze that time, smoke, and Amber Bock can produce, but my memories at the Bank (best bar in Waverly, IA; stop in for $1.25 wells and $5 pitchers) still carry some of my most engaging conversations. That connectedness to people drove me then and drives me now.
Just as problematic as handling my extreme indifference is finding a way to give my best despite my lack of concern. In order to combat indifference, it is vital to know that we are doing what we are supposed to do. That previous phrase qualifies as ambiguous writing, but consider about the times you knew/know you are doing what you truly love. As mentioned yesterday, when I was in Kindergarten, I loved warm cookies and Scooby Doo. I ran home from my morning kindergarten to catch Scooby and the gang, and my mom often had fresh cookies waiting for me. Notice that I ran and did so excitedly. How often do we excitedly run towards the task we want to do? Maybe that happens on the weekend when heading for fun, but does it ever happen from 9-5 on Monday through Friday?
Today, I finally had another taste of that joy. I was in legislation and we were debating a Supreme Court opinion that disallowed a US agency from regulating big tobacco. The case didn't make sense and four of us spent the hour debating the various sides and the conclusion. I know I'm boring and a nerd. I've come to accept this after 26 years, but this is what I like to do. I like to know about a controversial topic and debate it. I'm sure that most of you think my morning sounds dull, but use my excitement to consider your lot. Are you doing what you're meant to do? 2 Timothy 2:21 notes that "If a man cleanses himself from the [ignoble], he will be an instrument for noble purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work." I think people have an inherent desire to serve some purpose and it's important to know that you are serving that purpose. All that said, I still wouldn't mind the Scooby snack and the nap, but a brief opportunity to use my talents has me "running" just a bit more than before.
