Thank the merciful heavens…it is once again that magical time called “Reading Break,” when students head for the mountains, go to the beach, engage in wild partying, and on rare occasions, read. So, as I make my exciting reading break plans (namely, sleeping and reading), it provides a good opportunity to pause, look back, and consider the somewhat mind-boggling fact that I’m already almost done with my first academic year at seminary.

My grandparents had a quote by George W. Bush on their refrigerator which has come to mind: “I believe in grace because I’ve seen it, peace because I’ve felt it, and forgiveness because I’ve needed it.” Think what you will about the rest of his legacy, but that quote now seems to me somewhat profound. This year has been a time of learning grace…mostly because I’ve needed it.

I’ve been honestly quite surprised by how difficult this year has been. Coming in, I assumed that if there were one environment in which I would thrive, this would be it. School has always been relatively easy for me; history, theology, and language have always been passions of mine. The things that I study full time this year are effectively the things that I studied for fun last year. Thus, I assumed coming in that I could easily manage the class load almost as an aside, and focus on writing, learning Latin, mastering calculus, or some other fantastically ambitious project as my main focus.

I was wrong. I have struggled to find my rhythm, struggled with the workload, struggled against the ideas I was taught, and struggled against the ways in which they were taught. John Wesley in his sermon “Catholic Spirit” that “I would not deign to speak of the ‘higher things’ of God in the spirit of a prize-fighter;” however, I am realizing, that is precisely what I set out to do: to be a kind of white knight taking the academy by storm and overwhelming all with my brilliance and testimony. The academic dragon has not been so obliging as I anticipated.

Mostly, though, I have struggled with myself. I thought that, with a proper mix of reasoned self-discipline,  innate ability, and sheer force of will, I could find a way to master any obstacle that presented itself. I now find myself exhausted, with even the simple matters of attempting to make a schedule or send out an email update or make a phone call near impossibly difficult. I don’t know why I am here, although I trust on the basis of past experience that my present ignorance does not mean that there is no reason. I don’t know what I have to hope for, although I know that present blindness does not mean that there is no light. I only know for the moment that I need grace.