Ambition

“Great ambition is the passion of a great character.  Those endowed with it may perform very good or very bad acts. All depends on the principles which direct them.”

– Napoleon Bonaparte

I could sit here and write an essay about Shakespeare’s play, as I have so often in the past. I could outline every way in which his prideful ambition led to the ultimate downfall and his death. I could talk of Brutus and Cassius, outlining and comparing their faults and their glories. But we’ve had all of these discussions in class already and really, what is one more essay on the matter going to do for the world? I suppose we will never find out, as I am unwilling to waste what little time I have this evening writing it.

Instead, I am going to tell you MY ambition.

You see, I have great ambition. A good chunk of it is honestly selfish. After high school I want to travel, travel, travel. I want to soak up the world and experience everything I can. I want to go to Europe and eat scones by the Eifel tower, and scuba in the Adriatic off the coast of Greece. I want to eat REAL Italian food and dance through cliffside wildflowers in the Scandinavian countryside. Eventually I want a cute house, and a happy family of my own. A loving husband and healthy kids. These are the things I want for myself.

But my ambitions for others are even greater. You see, while I have been able to grow up with these dreams and wonders of what my life could be, other children are less fortunate. While every birthday in my home is a celebration to my parents of, “look we’ve had our Jenna-bean one more year” other parents have a moment of grief with each birthday as they wait in anxious sorrow for God’s clock to strike proverbial midnight.

And this brings me to my ambition, one driven by conviction. I want every child to have a chance to grow up. No parent should have to live in constant fear of losing their precious arrow.

Since I was nine years old, I knew that some kids were given supposed death-dates, told they won’t live into their teen years because of one genetic illness or another. My mentor/aunt/big sister figure was told she wouldn’t make it past thirteen, a woman on a podcast I just listened to was told her daughter wouldn’t live past three hours in our world outside the womb, and children my family has recently met are told they won’t live to be twelve. It is a small number in the big spectrum, but the problem doesn’t feel small when you are meeting these people who have such big hearts.

“Revenge, lust, ambition, pride, and self-will are too often exalted as the gods of man’s idolatry; while holiness, peace, contentment, and humility are viewed as unworthy of a serious thought.”          – Charles Spurgeon

I am convinced that kids with genetic disorders such as Hunter Syndrome are incapable of feeling the aforementioned “gods of man’s idolatry.” They know not of how to be envious, lustful, or mean, at least not in any way of intentionality. You have never met such joyous people; you will never meet pre-teens who are as open hearted and all enthusiastic for life.

By the time I was twelve I had begun to worry over how I was perceived, what did people think of me? Was my hair and outfit and, later on, makeup okay? These twelve-year-olds don’t care how they are perceived. Up until their last breathe all they know is how to love. They are not interested in side-hugs or halfhearted affection. And yes, they know the difference and there IS a difference. They want a full-on bear-hug and all out adoration from you to everyone else, as that is how they interact with and see the world. They are not interested in sitting still to appease the expectations of society. Even a girl strapped in a wheelchair fought her restraints, eager to dance while holding the hand of her beloved nurse.

These kids are, in my opinion, simply too perfect for this world. And yet they deserve a chance to grow up and see it, their families deserve to be able to witness that.

I don’t know how to solve a problem so well out of my hands. To try is as if I am using a teaspoon to empty an ocean. But my teaspoon, small as it is, can still be used to make ripples. If I get even just two more people to join me, we are emptying the ocean a tablespoon at a time. Anything I do is better than sitting back, continuing on in my selfish ambition and doing nothing.

So here is what I propose, first we learn about it. Google the challenges other kids face. Let us stop thinking just of ourselves and start thinking of others. Because what the heck! How humbling is it that right now, as a 17-year-old constantly complaining about school and work, I am living the simple and yet impossible dream of at least 500 mothers for their kids.

I said it before but allow me to reiterate, yes 500 out of 72.5 million kids in the United States seems a small and insignificant number. “So why worry about them?” we ask. Well, let me ask this of you, “you are only 1 of 72.5 million kids. So why should you or I worry about you?” You are valuable, and so are these kids. Every child is. Every adult is. They are all created in the likeness of God, so let us view them through His eyes. Small and insignificant this problem seems at first, but even more so are grades on a test or the opinion of your crush and yet these are the biggest concerns of the average American teenager. Myself included.

With that said, in addition to learning about these kinds of problems, I propose we care about them. Let us start dying to ourselves and start bearing the burdens of others. Let us shift our concern over from that of grades and crushes and to the literal life and death of the younger generation. Let us start talking about them, bring awareness to them. The world can’t help what they don’t know. As it is, many will know and still not help. But I will not be one of them.

I may be emptying the ocean with a teaspoon but emptying I will continue to do.

This is my ambition. To see a brighter tomorrow. To see a world where kids can grow up. This ambition does not hinge on Hunter Syndrome, Cystic Fibrosis, cancer, abortions, any of the other diseases I don’t even know of. This ambition does not hinge on me, or you, or the doctors and physicians. As everything else, this ambition hinges on the sovereignty of God overcoming the schemes of Satan. Everything is spiritual. Sickness will remain for as long as death does, and death will remain for as long as Satan reigns the world. But I believe we can come alongside and support. If nothing else, we can hold a child’s hand and give them a hug. We can bring meals and prayers to the table of their parents.

This essay follows no rhyme or reason. I do not have a clear thesis because I do not have a direct path for how to achieve such a broad ambition. But if I had to ask for you to take away two things it would be these.

One, no trial or hardship is insignificant. They are all real and hard. But I challenge us to see what happens when we stop thinking just of ours and start trying to aid others in theirs.

Two, I’m just a girl. I’m a selfish, stupid, sinful girl who in the last three weeks has had her boat rocked as she meets and sees kids who should have every reason to be angry and resentful instead be the happiest kids she’s ever met. These families have so few people fighting for them as the waves crash down, and so here I sit. A passerby on the edge of the sea with a teaspoon. And you better believe I will scoop until my last breath. My prayer with this chaotic essay is that maybe, just one person will sit down beside me and help. Maybe someone with better resources than I can sail out to the families and help them from a closer distance.

“Great ambition is the passion of a great character.  Those endowed with it may perform very good or very bad acts. All depends on the principles which direct them.”

– Napoleon Bonaparte

I don’t know whether I possess a great character. I, in truth, am not a great anything. Nor am I called to be. I just pray that maybe the principles behind this ambition are pure enough that I can do some good. May the Lord be able to work through me and produce some miraculous acts. May these kids have the chance to grow up.