The reason I left college


School is almost over for most seniors, which leaves them with one big decision, what would they like to do for the rest of their lives? After they figure out that question, they will then search for some colleges, either near or far from their hometown. After the decide where they want to go, they will send in an application to see if they are compatible with that certain school. After the college accepts them into their school, they will possibly move across the world to study their desired trait.
I decided on what I wanted to do when I was at church, one night. The pastor was talking about callings. At this point, I was lost on what I wanted to do. I wanted to be a writer, computer engineer, and pastor, but I didn’t know what was worth the money. I wasn’t good at math, so I knew computer engineering was at the bottom, of the list. I was comfortable with being a writer, but I didn’t know if that was my calling, but then I heard, what I thought was god, and he told me that I should be a pastor. My excitement overtook my body, and I jumped on that plan. At this time, I was also beginning a courtship with a girl, one that was going to this little Christian college, in August. She convinced me to apply at CBC (Central Bible College) and I did. A week later, I got a call while eating out with a few friends. CBC called to inform me that I had been accepted into their school. But a month later, they conjoined with another school, which raised the tuition. They also lost my entry fee. With all this going on, I decided to leave this option on the curb, and go a different way. That is when I found WRSM (World revival school of ministry.)
I didn’t want to go to a seminar, yet I applied. I don’t remember applying, honestly, but I did. I was accepted, and was on my way to Kansas City, Mo in August. The day I left home, I remember getting a mile out of town, then I heard a voice inside saying “NO!” I wasn’t sure what it was, but I marked it down as fear, and kept driving. That voice was warning me about what was about to occur.
I was happy when I got to the new home, my heart was racing, but something didn’t feel right. I figured this was from the change of location, so I fought it. But as the time went on, the feeling got worse. I wasn’t doing well at the time, I couldn’t sleep at nights, I couldn’t find a job, I wasn’t feeling the same about church, I was a mess. Then I met this guy, Craig, and we talked. I told him that I wasn’t feeling the same about this dream, and that I was thinking about leaving, after the semester was over. He wanted me to stay, saying this was a great place to be, especially if I was wanting to pursue Gods will. I felt bad for even questioning if I were suppose to be her not, I didn’t want to question Gods plan, so I decided to stay, still with no job or money.
A month before I left:
The pains of not fitting in are heavy, I haven’t met any close friends, even after being here for six months. When the church service starts, I feel empty inside, its an emptiness that I can’t fill with anything. I don’t know what to do, I don’t feel God anymore. I have prayed and prayed, but nothing is working. I am lost in self-doubt and frustration. I even started to doubt Gods existence at this point. Then there he stood, my youth pastor, at my front door step. He came down to give me a care package, but I needed more. I needed to talk to him, quickly. I needed to open up to someone, so we went out to dinner. I opened up in the middle of a empty Ihop, crying my eyes out from the heartache I had from this school. I was going to church five days a week, yet wasn’t feeling God? I knew there was something not clicking. My youth pastor told me that these were the choices: I come home, or I fight through. He told me that I had to pick the choice, that he couldn’t pick for me. He ensured that he was here for me with whatever I choose.
The answer came to me, about two weeks later. There was a big conference in town for the weekend. I was a part of the chair crew, which is a group that puts up chairs and tears them down, but this was for a church of 1000 and had to be done 2 times a day. With the conference in town, that added to the amount of work we had. During that week, I only got three hours of sleep. I remember someone coming up to me, and asking if I were okay. I smiled and told them I was doing just fine, but they saw through my lie, and asked how much I have been sleeping. With knowing, they knew, I told them the truth. They told me to go home, and get some sleep. But as they walked away, I laughed and went back to work. I would have felt guilty if I would have slacked off, since the school did give me a quarter free. I spent that semester working my butt off, just to pay them back. At the end, I wasn’t happy, though. That is when I decided to come home.
I still didn’t have any solid income. The house parents told me that I needed to get a job, quickly, or they would have to kick me out. So while they were at church, one Sunday, I decided to pack up my car and come back home. I felt a huge burden being lifted off my shoulders as I crossed back over to Illinois, I knew at this point, this was suppose to be my calling. I was called to stay in Illinois, and figure my life out. I wasn’t needed in a new land, but I needed to be somewhere I knew. My calling was to be a writer, something I could do right here in Illinois, for now.  

Impromtdude @

  1. Steven Capps says:

    Awesome post, I love the narrative that we tell about your time at college. Have you done a lot of creative nonfiction?

    • ImpromtDude says:

      I have a segment that walks my fans through my walk with Christ. It’s titled “Letters to the Chapel.” It’s similar to this post, and usually goes up on Sundays.

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