Hudson’s letter to his freshman self, which he shared with his Auburn church’s college gathering just days before graduation. Posting here not only as a record of Hudson’s thoughts, but even more so as encouragement for our college friends and their parents. A view from the finish line can sure be a comfort.
When I agreed to do this, I was told that the purpose of tonight is for us to reflect and share what advice we want to give to current freshmen, as well as underclassmen in general. While I believe that growth comes from failures and shortcomings, I wrote a letter to my freshman self that would have helped avoid the unnecessary stress and lies I experienced in conjunction with these pitfalls.
Dear Hudson,
It will never be perfect. Your life will never look exactly how you think you want it to. You will
have days that feel wrong, people that won’t like you, tasks that are too much, failures and lapses
in your judgment, and you can’t control it all. You’ll have to drop some classes, rethink your
majors, minors, and concentrations, reflect on your friend group, accept your convictions, repent
and apologize to the Lord, and admit to disciples, peers, and mentors that you can’t do it all. You
will have to sacrifice your ideal of leaving college with a 4.0, an acceptance letter to medical
school, a fiancé, and as the unofficial Mayor of Auburn. I know you can’t imagine it right now,
but there will be a day within the next four years when you walk into a friend’s house, your own
fraternity, a party full of people you know, or possibly your own home and you won’t know what
to say. You’ll avoid eye contact with people, you won’t have anyone to walk up to, and you’ll
leave unnoticed within two minutes of showing up. You’ll convince yourself that you’re the very
person you never thought you could be.
What you never expected, though, is that you’d have the most ironically incompatible yet
compatible best friend through all four years. You never thought that you’d be on leadership at a
camp you’ve never been to, or spontaneously help start a community group of random guys
you’ve never met who would truly become your closest friends. You never imagined that you’d
get to go to college with your little sister who is the single most precious person on planet earth,
or live in a melting pot of the most incredible God-fearing men whose origin cannot be
explained. You love people, Hudson. And you do it well. You don’t need to be everyone’s
person; you don’t need to be a doctor, you don’t need to be the smartest person in the room, and
you don’t need to have it all together. You don’t have to be perfect.
Now, to all of you,
In the wise words of my good friend Jandy (which he stole from his grandma who stole it from
Psalm 118)—It’s a good thing today doesn’t belong to you. When you don’t live up to your own
expectations, just remember that today isn’t about you. When your boyfriend or girlfriend breaks
up with you, remember that today doesn’t belong to you. When you land that exec position or
job you interviewed for, it doesn’t belong to you. Don’t find your identity in what you do; find it
in who you do it for.
Reflect on your failures and give them to the Lord.
Reflect on your blessings and talents and hand’em over.
Life gets a lot easier and more fulfilling when it’s no longer about you.
The last thing I’ll say is to go read The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness. Timothy Keller is much better than me when it comes to words.
