The Stewardship of Preparation

A professor friend of mine told me about the stewardship of preparation. As I was considering which graduate school to go to, he told me one of the most important things to consider was the time I would spend preparing to do whatever it was I wanted to do. It was important to consider what school would give me the best education, what extracurricular activities would enhance this experience, and where I could find mentors and friends wiser than me to consult with and listen to. In other words, the quality of my time and money spent, and not the quantity, should be the key factor driving my choice. Like choosing where to donate my 10% every month, spending my time wisely in preparation for my career was also a decision of stewardship.

I define stewardship as a maximization of resources. Bad stewards are those who spend and use money foolishly. Because resources are often scarce, it is important to find the best way in which to use them, to accomplish the most we can with what we have. It is very easy for me to follow this dogma when thinking of my finances; it is an entirely different exercise when considering my time.

To school or not to school, that is the question. I chose a graduate school based on the above information. The reality of study (not in terms of rigor, but in terms of content) hit me like a ton of bricks: I liked reading and talking theology; I hated being forced to take certain positions in essays that didn’t change lives and only gave me grades. Religious study was my hobby, my passion, my sport and my friend. In grad school, it became a taskmaster, a chore, an obligation, and nearly meaningless. The desire to have letters after my name waned; I was happy to be known as “the smartest guy in the room without an advanced degree.”

My goal was to find what I loved to do, what I was born to do, and then go get the degree that would get me the job that would get me the money that would get me the stability that would get me the happiness. I’m still waiting to take the first step down that road.

I feel like I’m having a quarter-life crisis. In today’s ever-changing world in which people in my generation will have 9 different employers by age 32 (four down, five to go), the quarter-life crisis is common. I have several friends who feel trapped in jobs that offer money and no meaning, feeling like something is missing and hoping something is right around the corner. We went to college, made friends, graduated, found a job, and now look back and wonder what happened. Why isn’t my resume good enough? What sort of job do I want to have? What would be fulfilling? Where did I take a wrong turn?

So what can we do to redeem these wrong turns? How can we be good stewards of our time right now, using it to prepare ourselves for the next step? My time at the hotel was not wasted, although it was a step I took merely for the purposes of survival. In my eighteen months there, I learned how to manage people, the importance of standards and training, and the intricacies of large budgets. I picked up skills that will serve me well anywhere. But the next step is one that gets me closer to being able to do the things I love to do, can do, and want to do. Since I wrote yesterday about these three things (I am happiest lately when working with teenagers. I have skills of leadership and vision that allow me to direct others towards a common goal. I want to help people.), I have felt a sense of accomplishment, a sense of direction, and a hopefulness in the form of criteria to consider when looking to walk through an open door.

While the stewardship of preparation is a wise maxim to consider beforehand, it might only be hindsight wisdom for some of us. “Use your time wisely” is more than a study-skill principle; it is a life principle we would do well not to forget.