what's the point?

I slowly sat down on the outdated and faded burnt orange tweed chair in my professor's office. I had sat in that chair at least twice a week for two years....and yet I still was uncomfortable. Not with the chair itself, but what I knew was coming. Our conversations were never light. I always knew I was going to leave feeling crushed, defeated by her wisdom...but also a little bit changed and motivated, too. I knew today was no exception and although I had requested the meeting this time, my mind was racing with scenarios to get myself out of there.



Too late. She sat down across from me in her typical state.

Curly blonde hair? Check.

Red reading glasses that always made me picture day-time television talk show host Sally Jesse Raphael? Check.

Tight jeans and black heels? Double check.

For a professor in her 50's, she always looked good....from a distance. Up close, her intensity was anything less than attractive to most people. Her tan, stoney face was always solemn. Her teeth were stained from her 35 year addiction to dark soda. Her personality was anything less than charasmatic. She didn't mess around. You could just tell she was that kind of person. And I respected her for it. I also loved her for being everything I wasn't.

As she sat down, she rested her elbow on her knee and her hand on her chin and just stared at me. I didn't know what to do, what to say.....so I stared back, smiling awkwardly....trying not to squirm in my chair....trying to not let her see how uncomfortable I was....while crickets chirped in the background. My mind shot from thought to thought, resting only long enough on each idea statement to realize that I didn't know what to say at all. How to begin? After what I'm sure was enough time to swim the English Channel had passed she broke the silence.

"So, what's the point Kelli?"

"Um, what?"

"What's the point? What is your purpose? What do you want to do when you're done here next year?"

"Oh, well....I really want to do something with people. Help them...or just, you know...like...love them. Probably homeless people or kids from the city. Maybe I could work for IJM? That video about human trafficking really made me want to work for them."

"Why? What's the point?"

"Well...I just don't like to see people mistreated. Or disrespected. Or hurting. Or sad....you know?"

"So what's the point? Why do that?"

"Because.........because I think that everyone needs to know that they are loved and have value and worth and they don't have to put their hope in material things, or money, or their job, or parents who let them down. I want them to know that someone cares."

"Who? You? I know that you care...but what's the point? What's the point of loving someone solely based on just loving them and making them feel good? Or make yourself feel good? What's the point in that? What will that do to change their life? Don't you think that's a temporary fix to a deeper need? Shouldn't Christ be the point? Shouldn't He be your purpose?"



That meeting ended two hours later, and is still one of the most pivotal conversations in my life. Sometimes I find myself asking "What's the point?" What's the point of the things that I do? Am I doing something for someone to make myself feel good? To make them feel good? Or to show them the love of Christ so that they might know Him? That's the reason we are here, isn't it? So often I think we make it too easy to make our lives and actions about anything else. About ourselves, our accomplishments, successes and victories. Anything that feeds our ego. What's the point in that?