A Phone Call

“Hello?” I answered the phone confidently.

“Yes, hello.  Is this Victoria Wade?” the masculine voice asked on the other line.

“Yes, that’s me,” I replied cheerfully.

“Excellent.  How are you today?” he asked.

‘Should I say that I’m great or that it depends on how this interview goes?’ I thought.  I settled for the standard, “I’m good. And you?”

“Excellent.  So why are you interested in joining the Torrey Honors Institute?” the Director asked, jumping through the formalities and to the heart of the conversation.

“Well, I’m not sure if I am even going to Biola,” I began, realizing that I had not really done anything to prepare for this conversation, and beginning to feel intimidated by his position.  He had a Ph.D. and I wanted to impress him, so I tried by down-playing the idea in the first place.  “I heard that it was an honors program and that you all read classic literature, so it sounded like something that I would enjoy.  I’m always up for a challenge,” I replied in my most winsome voice.

“So you’re not sure if you are coming to Biola?” he asked, sounding confused.

“No, I just applied in case I decided to go to Biola.  Actually, I’m leaning more towards UC Santa Barbara at the moment.”

“Why is that?” he asked sincerely.

“Ummm…I don’t know.  I have a friend there.  It’s near the beach too.  Oh, and it has a good academic reputation for the history department, well, at least better than Biola’s,” I confessed, thinking that my reasoning sounded a bit weak.  “I guess that sounds like a lame reason.”

“Going where your friends are going is not necessarily a bad reason for choosing a school, nor is the school's reputation inconsequential,” he reassured.  I, however, knew that it sounded better to say ‘friend’ than ‘acquaintance.’  I knew Kristen from church, but she was certainly not my main motivation.  Instead, I concealed my real reason for preferring the public college.

“I don’t know if I want to go to a Christian school anyway.  I mean, I’ve heard that it can limit your prospects academically if you seek to pursue grad school later on, and my grandpa said that it would ‘taint my record.’”

“So you plan to choose which school to attend based on their reputation?” he asked.  “Perhaps your concern is about how you can make the most money?”

He had guessed it.  I knew that I was smarter than most, and I thought that I had solid common sense, so I wanted to go to school somewhere that would help me to make a comfortable living.  ‘Was that so bad?’ I thought, trying to justify to myself, yet I knew deep within that it was a shallow reason.

“Do you want your life to be about making money?  There are greater things to live for,” he warned.  “Have you considered The Institute’s mission?” he continued.

“Their mission?  What do you mean?” I asked, a bit confused by the change in topic.

“The Torrey program is about shaping strong Christian leaders, people who live virtuous lives, and who will seek to change the world in the name of Jesus.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” I replied with a hint of sarcasm, embarrassed that he had seen through the facade so quickly and uncovered my pride and worldliness.

“Didn’t you read our mission statement?” he asked, taken aback.

“I think I have it around here somewhere,” I admitted, digging through the college advertisements I had pinned on the cork board near my bed.  Pulling the pamphlet from the board, I read it silently.  “You all believe in this stuff?  It’s not just fancy words to get donors?” I asked with skepticism and a touch of disdain.

“Yes!” he confidently replied.  “We believe that God is looking for leaders, people who are willing to undergo the hard work of sanctification and an academically rigorous course load.  We’re about finding those people and training them to be the leaders God has created them to be – to love goodness, truth, and beauty, to love people and to lead them.”

Quite frankly, after years in public schools I had become disillusioned.  Every Christian club I had joined always seemed more concerned about debating Darwinism than reaching out to our fellow students with the love of God.  Back in seventh grade I had been elected president of the CROSS club (Christians Reaching Out Serving Students), but only by default, as no one else was interested in the role, especially since Drama Club met the same afternoon.  Still, I stuck with it for two years, organizing service projects on campus like picking up trash, but no one was excited and even my enthusiasm dwindled over time.  Once in high school I hoped things would be different, and I religiously attended the Christian club on campus and prayed at the flag pole every morning for an entire year.  Even so, by junior year I was exhausted from the constant debates about how dumb Darwin was, and the constant desire to fight ‘the system,’ which was brainwashing us.  Eventually I stopped going altogether, preferring Habitat for Humanity, which met during lunch on Wednesdays at the same time, but was tangibly showing love to the community and meeting real needs.

Since I was young, I had always been told that I was a natural leader.  I was the leader of the praise team at church and served on our youth group council.  I had a fire inside me, but I did not know what being a leader looked like.  I had tried being bossy and demanding respect, but none had cooperated without coercion.  I was tired of being that sort of leader, yet I felt a calling to be different, to set an example for others.  I longed for a place where I could grow as a Christian leader, where people were serious about their faith and their minds.  Was Torrey this place?  My excitement was sparked.  I had to join this program!

“Honestly,” he continued, “if you are not seriously considering coming to Biola, then I do not think that we have anything else to talk about.  Please let us know if you change your mind,” he replied, wrapping up the conversation.  “We’ll put you on the waiting list in case.”

“Wait!”  I chimed in, beginning to panic.  I couldn’t let this chance slip away. I’m supposed to be in Torrey.

“Yes?” he asked.

“The waiting list?  But I want to go.  I want to be in the program!” I pleaded, embarrassed that I was now beginning to tear up.

“I’m not sure if this program is for you,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Please, just give me one more chance,” I begged.

“Okay,” he hesitated.  “What do you think it means to be a Christian?” he asked in a contemplative tone.  I could not sense any hint of a trick question.  He genuinely wanted to know.

My mind flooded with all the theologically correct answers that I thought I could give, but they all seemed superficial or too impersonal for the moment.  He would see right through it.  I had to share from the heart if this director was going to give me a second chance, but I could not figure out how to articulate my faith in an impressive manner.  I looked at the world map on my wall, searching for answers.  My eyes locked on Canada where I had spent a couple weeks the previous summer on a mission trip.

“I guess it is about loving God and other people,” I said through my tears, thinking that I had surely blown my chance at this academic program with my Sunday school answer.  There was silence on the other line.

“You know, I think we might have a spot for you,” he replied with a smile in his voice.

“What?  Are you serious?” I asked, hope and joy swelling deep in my soul.

“Yes, Victoria, I will put you on the list.  I would be delighted for you to join the program.  Now I have always found it to be a good idea to give myself a little treat after doing something difficult.  You should go get an ice cream and we’ll see you in the fall.  The Lord bless you.”

“Thank you, Dr. Reynolds.  Have a good evening,” I added, hanging up the phone.  The tears I had been choking back began to flow.

After months of debating where to go to school and eagerly awaiting to hear the voice of God telling me where to go, I was now confident that He had spoken.  In the fall I would be going to Biola University and the Torrey Honors Institute, not based on reputation or potential future wealth, but eager to learn how to love God and other people better.  I had no idea what I was in for, the ways in which it would change my life and shape my journey, or how we would pay for it, but I was confident, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was God’s will for me, and I would walk the path boldly.