“The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.” (Psalm 126:3 NIV)

I was at Houghton College this past weekend. As I wandered the campus that was my home from 1976-1980, I often felt choked up as I trekked along familiar sidewalks around the quad or climbed the same dining hall stairs I hurried up and down so many years ago. At the same time came a wave of intense joy. What was I feeling? Why these surges of opposite emotions?

As I walked across the campus, I felt that familiar catch in my throat. How often I had felt that catch during those years as a college student. How many times I had walked the quad, my breath floating in the freezing winter evening, hot tears staining my cheeks. Fears, frustrations, worries had many times driven me to walk and cry alone. Yet as I look back on that time in my life, I also remember it with great joy.

Perhaps it has something to do with having that benchmark to look back at during a specific time in my life. I know that at that moment in time (four years of college) at a certain place (Houghton College), I learned who I was and what I was about.

At Houghton College, I grew up. More than that, I learned what it would mean to continue to grow and change. By the time of my junior year, I had found my voice, my place. I knew I had value, reason to be, “a future and a hope” (to quote Jeremiah). Somewhere in that four-year time frame, Houghton seared itself into my being like a brand on my heart. As corny as it sounds, I cannot escape it–the choked-up feeling mixed with tears and joy insists that what I feel is real.

At Houghton I learned that personal change–massive change–was possible. I could rise to any challenge, face hardship and difficulty, struggle with my faith, wrestle with God, and come out wounded but stronger, like a broken bone strengthened by the process of healing.

Since my time at Houghton, my path has yielded some bumps, delightful surprises, some detours, and some treks on roads that never appeared on any map. At the time I didn’t see the future, wasn’t even sure of the destination, but I knew I had my feet on the right path. And that was enough.

Not to say I didn’t want more at the time–to have settled the searing questions of husband and career–but I look back across the landscape of my life since Houghton knowing that this traveler at least had a map and would never be lost.

So the tears come out of gratefulness and joy. Thanks to God for leading me to this place in the lush green hills of upstate New York. Thanks to Him for being there through lonely days, rainy afternoons, sad Saturdays, along with the sunshine moments of laughter and fun with men and women who became lifelong friends. Thanks for teaching and guiding me, one step at a time, one lesson at a time, as much as my little heart could handle, never too much (at least I can see that now).

That’s what choked me up as I walked across campus 29 years later–older, wiser, a vessel overflowing with God’s amazing grace. The God who comforted and guided me here on this campus is more real, more amazing, more delightful every day.

Thank you Houghton for being the place where all of this was shown to me by way of wise professors, kind staff, amazing chapel speakers, and hymns sung to the staggering sound of the organ as I stood in my place in the front row of the chapel and a thousand voices descended upon me from behind.

The joy comes from seeing with 20/20 vision the pathway I’ve trod since then. I now can clearly see that the bumps and detours themselves allowed for the possibility of those delightful surprises around bends in the road–surprises I would have missed otherwise.

So I walk those sidewalks around that quad that I walked decades ago and I see where I have been. That 20/20 reinforcement of how my Lord watched over me in those benchmark years gives me strength to turn back around and continue my journey. More bumps and detours will come but there will also be more delightful surprises. As God guided before, He will continue to do so.

He has done great things for me, and I am filled with joy.