When I was in college, though, I still wanted to be an
actress so much that I gave up an almost full scholarship at a really good
school to go to another school that was almost double the cost and take on student loans and debt, just so that I could
move from a small pond to a bigger one. I had been a pretty big fish where I
was, and had been able to act in all of the mainstage plays to my heart’s
content. I had big roles from the time I started there, and I wasn’t prepared
for the snobbishness and cliquishness of the bigger pond I moved to. The first
thing that happened was that they made me audition to see where I would fit
into the acting classes. I had two years of college level training and two
years of major acting roles under my belt, but they put me in the beginners'
acting classes which was a big blow to my ego. I later on found out that they’d
made a mistake. They hadn’t known that I was a Junior transfer student – they thought
I was a Freshman who wanted to skip the beginners' classes. That was the norm
with those teachers unfortunately. They never looked at records and files and
it ended up costing me a recommendation to Yale because one of them never wrote
a recommendation because she forgot and another wrote a paragraph when it
called for at least a page. The paragraph said something along the lines of “Jannie
was a very good student in class and always did her assignments on time.” So
much for Yale.
So there I was in this big pond, a very small fish being
made to feel smaller every day. I had come in as an acting major, or rather
someone who had a “concentration in acting” as we said there, but I also had a
concentration in literature and music. It was a solid liberal arts school, so
we were encouraged to do things like that – take all the courses you wanted to
that would never get you a job in the real world but that were sure a lot of fun
and very, very artsy. I’m not sorry I did it, though, because even with what I
know now about the job market and liberal arts educations meaning practically nothing
to some people, it was a great foundation for living life. For some reason,
liberal arts educations help give people common sense. I don’t know why that
should be, but it’s true. I’ve worked over the years with lots of people with
all kinds of degrees in different majors, and many of them don’t have the
reasoning capability or the understanding of problem solving or the critical thinking that some of even
the most artsy people I knew in college had then and still have. I also thrived
there, even with my beginners' acting classes. The other classes I had were so
enriching and the acting time was pure play, and though we had a lot of work
and so many papers to write all the time, it didn’t seem like it at all because
that kind of environment makes learning fun.
The one class I had that was no fun at all was a music theory
class that started at 9am three days a week – or maybe it was two, but it was
so grueling it seemed like we met every day. The regular teacher was on sabbatical,
and we had a substitute who knew his stuff but didn’t know the usual methods
for teaching at our school playground. I don’t say that to mean in any way that
we weren’t learning – we really did do a lot of work and we really did learn a
lot. In the work that I do now, I’ve been trained to teach the way I was taught
at that college because research has proven that people learn more when they’re
enjoying themselves and are encouraged to be a part of the discussion and are not
just being lectured to. But even with all of the work we were doing, the school
was a playground for most of the classes except for this music theory class.
And in those days I was a night owl – that’s one way that God has really
changed me – I get up so early now, even on weekends, and go to bed early when
I can, but back then I was up way past midnight all the time, and a 9am class
was not anything that I would look forward to, even with a great teacher which
this one definitely wasn’t.
There was a freshman student in that class, and I don’t
remember how we met, but all the classes were small and we were in a small
room, so maybe it was just looking blearily at each other and making each other
laugh that started our friendship. She invited me to come to her room to do
homework together and when I got there, she had all this wonderful food to feed
me with. As I got to know her over time, and then continued to know her when we
both moved to the city, I saw that she was one of those people who just
naturally mother other people – in a good way – giving them good food, good
wine, a good martini now and again, and generally doing everything she could to
make you feel loved. Her family was from New York, and she’d borrow the car and
take people on trips to Long Island to go apple picking and pumpkin buying and
knew all the great museums and concerts and restaurants and city hot spots to
go to. She got me a job once when she was working with a boutique investment
company, the kind of job that doesn’t really feel like a job when one of your
friends works there. Looking back over the years I don’t think I ever told her
how much I appreciated her. The gifts she gave me, the trips and dinners and
all of the love she brought into my life are things that kept my life bright even during dark and difficult times. She was there through it all, through breakups and family trauma, through financial struggles and personal strife, through the good times and the bad times, reaching out a hand in love that helped keep me going when the going got tough and helped make the good times even better.
It’s a strange thing, because sometimes I think it’s easy to
assume that people know how much they mean to you. They come into your life at
a time when you really need just what they have to give, and you figure they
must know how much you need and appreciate what they give you of themselves,
because they wouldn’t be doing it if they didn’t see how much you needed it,
right? But the truth is often very different. The truth is often that these
people who give so much of themselves to give you love and support are doing it
because they want to do it. They sometimes don’t know that you need it, and
they may not even know if it’s something that you enjoy. They’re just doing
what they feel is right to do, and you’re on the receiving and benefitting end
of it, enjoying it and taking it for granted that they know how much it means
to you. 1 Thessalonians 5:12 tells us to “acknowledge those who work hard among
you, who care for you in the Lord and who admonish you. Hold them in the
highest regard in love because of their work.” Too often we don’t acknowledge
people for the work they do, too often we don’t recognize that it is out of
love that they do what they do. Too often because we miss that part, the part
that is love, we miss out on love in all its fullness.
One of God's messages that is sometimes hard for us to receive
is the message of humility. The word humility is so close to humiliation, and
we back off from it, not wanting to feel put down and less than, like someone
who transfers to college as a Junior with honors, and auditions for a place in
the advanced classes only to find her name on a public list in a class of
Freshman beginners. But it’s only when our ego is so fragile that where we
place in an audition matters. It’s really not important what other people say
or think, it’s what you do and who you are that really matters. 1 Corinthians
13:2 tells us, “If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and
knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love,
I am nothing.” I can have every honor and every gift and every blesssing, but without love, without knowing how to love, I may as well not have anything at all.
In the nutrition and wellness work that I do, I often talk
with people about the importance of getting nutrients through foods because
there are different kinds of vitamins and nutrients that help each other be
absorbed together in the body and work together for the body’s health and
strength. Vitamin D and Calcium are two nutrients that work well together, and
as I think of humility and love, they have a similar relationship. According to
Paul in 1 Corinthians, without love we are nothing, no matter what amazing
gifts and skills we have. I am understanding now that without humility, we cannot love, because we cannot
accept that we would not be able to make it without the help of another.
Humility is not humiliation, it is far from it. Humility says that I know that
I need help, and I thank you for giving it to me. Humility says I love you because
you have given me love. Humiliation says that I am nothing, that I have failed,
that I cannot hold my head up high. Humility says I have love, so I am
something wonderful, and with your help I can keep walking.
That passage in 1 Corinthians ends with “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does
not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self seeking,
it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight
in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always
hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” (1 Corinthians 13:4-8). If we have humility we are able to love, and if we are able to love, we can never fail.
Blessings,
Jannie Susan
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