Brains muddled with dormitory tours, FAFSA forms, application deadlines, potential scholarships, welcoming addresses, classroom tours, athletic opportunities, smiling tour guides, hand-shaking professors and deans, my wife and I drove home from Music City after a weekend of several college visits with our high school senior.
"I liked the lay out of the upper classroom dorms at University #1, I wish they would do that for the freshman too," offers my better half. "Sharing a common area makes it easier to have a sense of community."
I nod, "What did you think about the food in the cafeteria?"
"It was okay, but you and your son seemed to like it. I wonder why University #2 gave us box lunches?"
"Maybe they didn't want to scare off the students with institutional food?"
Perfect room. Perfect food. Perfect roommate, advisor, major/minor. Corner office. Hotel rooms with unobstructed views. All green lights and a parking spot at the entrance. Smart dog, smarter kids.
Because we believe that our circumstances determine the quality of our lives, we pour our energy into attempts to control them. When our efforts are successful we are happy, but are cranky when we fail. We rarely question the correlation between our circumstances and our feelings. Yet it is possible to be content in all circumstances.
A voice from the backseat asking about a physics problem dealing with gravity and acceleration morphs into a discussion about falling from a hot air balloon (minus parachute).
Me: "I'd be screaming as I clawed air trying to get back into the balloon."
The Nino: "Not me. I'd be enjoying myself, doing somersaults, spins, and stuff. I know that I'd die and I'm secure where I'd be going because I've accepted Jesus. It would be my last moments on earth, so I might as well enjoy them."
Content in all situations because he is secure about his eternal destination. I think the boy is going to do fine in college
