Rejoicing in Peculiarity
by Amy Simmons

It is an ordinary day in Mendota…sitting on the sofa, holding baby Calvin, and teaching him a Psalm while holding the bottle full of the formula that he seems to require more of each day. On the floor, big-sister Lily cavorts with baby Rose, while mommy Jamie does therapy exercises with baby Alan beside me. Nina, the children's grandmother, is in the kitchen singing and juicing, but comes in the room in time to read us an excerpt from the Miss Read book she has been relishing. We laugh, then, while the triplets and Lily continue to play, I pull out one of the books I am reading to discuss later with Dr. Sproul. Calvin finds it fascinating as well, and a few moments are spent having a "conversation" about Christianity and culture with the little one curled in the nook between my arm and the sofa. Jamie and Lily sing an alphabet song, and it seems as if Rose knows precisely what they are talking about, for she smiles beautifully and gurgles along in rhythm. Soon, it is time for the babies to sleep, and between the combined efforts of the ladies of the house, all three babies are soon snuggled up in bed. Later in the day, there is time to walk to the Post Office with Lily, prepare homework for my Graham Bible College classes, discuss marriage and family with Jamie and Nina, have an adventuresome time in preparing for the evening meal, listen to Marc and Pito tell about the day's exploits, and join with the whole household as Marc leads us in family worship.

My time as a resident student, which ended four days ago (as of the writing of this article), was such an amazing time of growth and learning and living that it is hard to pin down the experiences into a brief sketch. This fall I had the delight of packing up and going to live with a three-generation household I did not know, but who soon became an adopted family. I had the joy of coming alongside this family as they adopted biracial triplets, and saw the amazing Christ-like love and support of the Saint Peter community in Bristol for these new covenant children, their sister, their parents, their grandparents, and even me. One of the key components of resident-student life is this: living with a family and participating in their life. This enabled a young woman like me to learn housekeeping skills, gain childrearing experience, and discuss the practical realities of motherhood and wifehood with women of wisdom. Combining this with the study of ideology was wonderful. Not only did it help me keep a good perspective on "real life"…the good life, the HSC'ers would call it…but it also created a context in which to apply the things learned.

I did not just spend time with the Hays, however. The "separate" part of the Highland Study Center's motto in no way refers to the relationships between households in the reformed community. It was an encouragement and exhortation to see whole households applying the Scripture to their daily life, and applying it together as a larger household of faith. We attended studies together, played together, feasted together, and worked together. It was refreshing to see the service, hospitality, and love poured out among families.

Thus far I have only mentioned the "living" part of my studies. As people ask me to describe my life as a resident student, this is generally where I start. By the time I have rhapsodized for a bit, the ones who stick around to listen are generally thrilled and amazed at the opportunity to study and grow in such a community. Then, of course, I have to tell them that this was not all! Not only did I live with a delightful family, not only did I interact with the Saint Peter community, not only did I experience the wider reformed community of Bristol, not only did I get to take sundry classes from Graham Bible College, but I also had the opportunity to have scintillating discussions, profound musings, and even fiery debates with Dr. Sproul, Jr., and my fellow resident students. This part of my studies was tremendous as well. Each of us was focusing on a different area of interest, so our discussions would often range from the Just War Theory, to the impact of modernism on pop-culture, to what it means to be a submissive wife. Taking our lessons well from G. K. Chesterton, who reminds us that the rabbit trails are indeed the point, we had lively and intense conversations each week about the books we had read, the tapes we had listened to, the other classes I was taking, the things we had thought, and the foods we enjoy. Each topic we would examine through the lens of the reformed, covenantal, Scriptural worldview. Occasionally our discussion would carry on later at the supper table, as often the delightful Mrs. Sproul would invite me to stay, visit, and sup with them. She even shared a favorite family recipe with me, which I think bodes well to becoming a new favorite of my family.

There are some who have looked a little askance at these months of mine in the mountains. To some it seems a little odd to take an alternate path than the four-years-in-a-dorm-my-degree-is-my-life approach. I rejoice in the peculiarity, for what else are we called to be but a peculiar people, a people set apart who deliberately live biblical lives? Some of the most profound things that impacted me are so simple, that to anyone else they could seem irrelevant. But, if there is one thing that was reinforced during my time with the reformed community in Bristol, it is that nothing is irrelevant. There is a war going on, and there are no innocent bystanders. We are all combatants, either for King Jesus or against Him. Whether we are changing a diaper, playing with the children, cleaning the floor, discussing theology, or eating a meal with our family, as Christians we are always to be taking dominion and demonstrating Christ's lordship over all of culture. This is our calling, and at the Highland Study Center, it was our delight.

Amy Simmons is a fine young lady, and a former resident student.