The other day, I witnessed the most profound and moving act of worship I have ever seen. There were no words, no songs or musical instruments, no flashing lights and loud proclamations of the goodness of God.
“What is your major?” “What are you passionate about?” “What do you want to do after graduation?” These are the questions that college students are always being asked.
It’s been three years since my life was radically awakened. Three years since I got on a plane for twenty-four hours and got off in a completely different world. Three years since an Ethiopian coin was slammed down in front of me and an unforgettable phrase uttered...
As our eight-person leadership team crammed onto a four-by-four foot wooden platform in the middle of the woods for a team building exercise, I couldn’t help but wonder: How exactly is this going to make us more effective leaders on campus?
As soon as I step out of the car and onto the grounds Cedar Campus in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, I take in the fresh air, the wooded landscape, and the palpable change of pace from campus life.
In the late 1990s, shortly after computers became fixed household items, poet Edgar Hix wrote the following CyberPsalm for the Student Leadership Journal.
Many of you have seen it plastered all over the news. My alma mater, Northwestern, and the university I now serve at, the University of Chicago, have made headlines this year.
In The World is Flat, Thomas Friedman recounts an African parable of the gazelle and the lion. The gazelle wakes up each morning with the realization that it has to keep running in order to keep from being eaten.
