Great Hall dinners, late night Blink runs, chapel Doxologies—you've heard about these Covenant quintessentials since your high school tour. I hope you've experienced them for yourself. But I think Covenant's awesomeness lies in not only the postcard-worthy memories but also the whole-life-impacting experiences of residential college. Some that come to mind:
1. Mud puddles. Last semester during finals, we had crazy weather, including hail and a tornado warning. So naturally (during a slightly less intense thunderstorm), we splashed down to the intramural field, kicking puddles into each other, delightedly stomping in the mud. We were drenched and dirty when we got back; we lost valuable study time. But we were learning an equally valuable lesson: taking time to enjoy God's creation and our embodiment is essential to living holistically as God designed us.
2. Bad carpet. If you know me, you're probably thinking, "Of course Ellie would be happy about bad carpet." Don't get me wrong, I long for Mac's renovation day, when the Harambe! carpet will no longer be a literal debris magnet. (Every Cleaning Day, we're on our knees raking up hair-and-lint clumps the vacuum won't touch, and it's not fun.) But I think literally handscraping this carpet clean is a good reminder: post-Covenant life won't always be glamorous. Our carpets will be ripped, our leftovers will be clammy, and our relationships will be even harder to maintain than a clean house. These carpet battles are training us not to expect easiness—and could there be a more crucial lesson?
3. Honesty. We believe in total depravity, but I do think you'll find many community members who will be healthily honest with you when you seek feedback on your outfits, papers, and performances. The ones I most trust will tell me that I'm cherishing a dangerous worldview, or that my good intentions hurt them. People here love you enough to tell you, with gentleness, more than what's easy to hear. We should seek and practice that honesty for the rest of our lives.
Maybe you're seeing a pattern. It's there, and it's messiness. Jumping in mud puddles, cleaning the carpet, letting a friend tell you you're wrong—they're all a little messy, a little awkward, a little uncool. But they're also crucial moments of formation. Comfortable experiences alone, though truly important and delightful, can't provide full-bodied growth. So whether you're new to Covenant or a toughened veteran, ask how those moments you want to avoid could be preparing you for the messiness you'll find worldwide. And then go jump in a mud puddle.