Southern Adventist UniversityFreshman Blogs

Prescott—The Final

This will be the last post of the year. I would like to thank each of you for reading this post and faithfully reading each of the others, because I know that you waited with anticipation for each and every post. Ok, even if you didn’t, I’d still like to thank you even if you are only reading this post. It’s finals week here at Southern, students are busy all over campus procrastinating or studying, and the rare few are able to balance both. Finals are designed to be cumulative; (except for the rare few professors who show mercy) these tests are designed to encompass everything learnt in class during the semester. I think it is only fitting to follow the trend and make this post cumulative of the past year.

Arriving at Southern, I was unsure of what to expect. I had heard great stories of fun and friends and horror stories of terrible experiences. I was uneasy going into a new situation, but I did it anyway. Thankfully, I had the help of a good buddy from camp. He knew the ins and outs of Southern and seemed to know everyone on campus which made meeting the first few friends pretty easy. I guess this would be the first lesson I learned and the first piece of advice I can share: network to find a friend who can help you out. The advice I received from my friend as well as the connections I made through him helped assure my success my first year of college. When you first get to college, if you don’t already have one, find a friend that will act as your bridge into the college world.

In my Greek class this year, we would learn a new concept and then the next week we’d build off the old concept in order to teach a new one. In this same way I felt I built my friend group. The friend group played a tremendously huge role this year. No man is an island and this year especially I felt I was rocked by the waves of troubles. My friend group helped me through, and without them I think I might have been washed away. This would be the second lesson and piece of advice I can give: build a strong network of friends and appreciate them. I found when I was sick in bed unable to get up to eat my friends would bring me food and make sure I was taken care of. Find friends like these, they will watch out for you and save you from a whole lot of trouble, they will help you when you are in trouble, and then rebuke you because you got in trouble. These friends are priceless.

School is can be tough sometimes because of the workload and the stress. Take time to relax! Stress is great and can be a very positive motivator to get things, like school work done, but make sure each day you have time to relax and do something fun. Those who don’t relax go crazy. The key is to balance the time spent relaxing with the time spent working. A good balance will go a long way. Thankfully, this was one skill I had picked up before college, but it definitely has served me well here.

I’ve learned an incredible amount in this one year and I don’t feel I can quite do the knowledge justice by trying to summarize in a short blog post, I wish I had more time to share but I don’t. I guess this “final review” has come to an end. In this last blog post, I’ve shared what I feel will help and I hope that it does. I would like to wish each one reading this congratulations on finishing the school year, a warm welcome for those coming next school year, and a hearty thank you to all who have shared an amazing year with me at Southern Adventist University. 

Prescott—End of the Year Reflections, Part 1

When I look back on how far I have come this school year I think of some very awesome times and experiences as well as some really terrible times and experiences. I’ve met some great people who have helped me through the really terrible times and have been there to share the really great times with me. Tonight was Strawberry Fest; it is the end of the year wrap-up video. The video followed the journey of five students and their journeys throughout their time this year at Southern Adventist University. This caused me to think back on the specific events of my time at school this year and what I have learned from this time at school.

Educationally speaking I have learned an incredible amount. I can now roughly translate Classical Greek, thank you Greek 1 and 2. I now know the difference between affect and effect, thank you Comp 101 and Comp 102. I have learned to listen in a conversation instead of talk, thank you Interpersonal Ministry. I’ve learned lots else in school, but most of my learning has happened outside of the classroom.

I’ve learned most through my experiences. This year has been somewhat rough, there have been family emergencies, trips to the emergency room involving me, sicknesses that have robbed me of goals and week of class, break-ups and let downs. Each experience in itself was trying, but these experiences seemed to come in sets or waves. The weight of them combined added pressure that did two things for me. The first being was the pressure taught me to rely on something other than myself. In order survive I had to connect to those around me and more fully connect to my God. I was extremely blessed to have a great group of friends that helped me through the rough times, in some cases bringing meals because I couldn’t go out for myself. The second lesson was a lesson I had learned while I was younger. This experience helped confirm what I already believed, never quit. This mentality is great when applied correctly. When used as motivation, never quit means to push through the tough moments. Life has them and everyone will go through them. Quitting during those moments is easy; it is what is often expected. However, quitting doesn’t get us anywhere, it leaves us where we stopped and we go no further. Pushing through the rough times allows us to keep moving towards our goal whatever that may be. The best advice I can give is to never quit.

The year is coming to an end and I’m sad to leave the close friends I have made. I’ll be glad to get a break from school, get a summer job and make some money, and just take time to enjoy where I am. I’m thankful for the time I have spent this year and I’m looking forward to the next. The best way of showing my thanks is to help and advice the next year’s freshmen class. My final blog of the year will share what I’ve gained here at school. I hope that it will be of use. 

Prescott—The Professor that Cared

The week of the test is a dreaded time. There are some classes that testing is as easy as showing up for the exam and spelling your name correctly on the paper. There are other classes where try as you might, you will have never studied enough, written enough, thought through the questions enough. It is classes like these that are the butt-kickers. Each major has these classes. They are designed to weed out those who don’t really want to be in that major. I’m a theology major and for us this class is actually two classes split into six semesters. All theology majors have to take Greek and Hebrew. Ask your local pastor what he thought about taking the classes when he was in school. The answer will most likely be, “I’m glad that is over.” I’m taking Greek this year. Greek is tough. Greek is insane. The ancient Greeks who designed this language were insane. Ok, that’s an overstatement, but the language is incredibly complex. Yet, I have to take this class in order to get my degree. It just so happened last week was test week.

Whenever there is a Greek test a friend and I form a study group. We are known to be at the same spot, at the same time the night before the test. We will always be found on the fourth floor lobby, of the new wing of Talge hall, at 8 pm sharp. We will have our books open and be furiously studying for the next day’s test. The class has lots of memorization and lots of application. It is a language, meaning it builds off of each other. Miss one part and the rest of the class doesn’t make sense. Our professor is a man who knows everything. Next to God, our professor knows more than any man I have met. He has become a legend in the department. He has a beard that hasn’t been shaven (only trimmed) since the 70’s. Of course, this has provoked a few Chuck Norris style jokes. The man is tough. He started the first day of the semester out with a quiz, on Greek. He is not only tough, but he’s funny. He’s quick with a joke and equally quick with the most in depth answer to any of life’s questions. My description of this man can’t do him justice, but the idea I would like to convey is a deep respect.

It is this man that my friend and I have jokingly invited to our study group each night before the test. For the first semester and most of the second we haven’t had much success. This past study night was different. My friend and I were busy prepping for the test when into the lobby walks our professor. He seemed out of place in the guy’s dorm and he was even more out of character when he walked up to our table and set down two boxes of pizza. Our professor, the hard, tough man we compare to Chuck Norris had gone down to the local pizzeria, waited in line and had bought us two pizzas with his own money. My friend and I were left speechless. It was an awesome experience to think that a man with a double doctorate would care enough about two undergrad Greek students to buy them pizza the night before a major test. In that small gesture my attitude was given a good shift. I had come from a small academy where everyone was family. At Southern it was big and seemed overwhelming at first. Come second semester I had settled into the routine and figured it was just a bigger less caring environment, due to the size. This changed that perception. I realized that there were people that cared. There were people in high places that did look out for the guy underneath them. That simple gesture showed me a caring side to a big campus. It will be a very long time, if ever, before I forget what my professor did for me. I know that he cared. 

Prescott—Tossed by an Avalanche

I was excited for this weekend. This weekend I was going to run a Tough Mudder. For those who don’t know, Tough Mudder is a 10-12 mile challenge with 25 or so obstacles in between the start line and the finish line. These obstacles are designed to push you out of your comfort zone, embrace your fears, and overcome them. I was running with a team of guys from one of my classes, these guys all were ex-military and some had done some pretty cool things. I had been training for months in order to keep up with them. I finally felt confident about running with these guys when I got the flu over spring break. It took me a few weeks to get back into shape, but I regained my confidence. Today was the run, and sadly, I didn’t participate. It seemed like everything had been going so well up until this past Sunday.

My ankle was messed up in basketball but I thought it would heal in time. I had proudly made the statement that, “I would still run, it would take an avalanche to stop me.” Somehow, I think God knew I was right too. That’s exactly what hit me, an avalanche. It wasn’t a literal avalanche but the way everything fell it certainly felt like one. I was nursing my ankle on crutches, when I began to re-catch the flu. I became so sore I could no longer use my crutches without being in agony. Without my crutches, my ankle wasn’t healing well, and it hurt to walk on it. I again made my statement of pride. Again, the avalanche fell. This time it threw me to the ground, literally to the ground. I felt extreme pain in my ankle like never before and then I felt dizzy and my skin felt flush. I knew what was coming and had a second or two before I fell. I woke up with a killer headache and crushed pride.

At this point I knew I was done. I was broken physically, mentally, and emotionally. I had given this race my entire effort and I wanted desperately to see the fruit of my labor. In the process of working toward the race I had made it my idol. It had consumed my thoughts and my life for weeks. Everything I did was in training, when I ran out of words in conversation this came up. I wanted this challenge. But for some reason it was taken away from me.

Sometimes we work and work to achieve a goal, only to see it vanish before we can claim it. It seems like we put everything we have into the fight, but don’t win. We sometimes try too hard for the wrong reasons. Our motives are not lined up with the goal. Something needs to be shifted. Sometimes it takes gentle push and sometimes it takes an avalanche. Either way it’s not fun to lose, to be thrown down and left there, but in that situation we’re given an opportunity. It’s an opportunity to make a choice. We can stay down and wallow in our own defeat or we can get back up fix the problems in our plan and try again. For my situation I have to evaluate why I’m want this. I have to see where my heart is at. I wish I could have gotten gentle nudge but I was too stubborn for that. The only way to get my attention was through the avalanche. 

Prescott—Benched

Have you ever had those moments where everything is going great for you? All your plans were being set in motion and then all of a sudden life throws you to the ground and says not part of my system. Well, that’s how I feel right now. I spent the weekend at my alumni weekend. It was great to catch up with old friends and see how they were doing. We got to hang out and relive all the great moments as well as the not so great ones. As most schools do we had an alumnus vs. academy basketball game. Back in the day when I was an academy student it was the biggest thing to beat the alumni in the game. All through high school we got creamed. Finally, my senior year we won. It was a great time and we were super excited about our victory. This year it was our turn as alumni to protect our reputations and beat the students.

The game started and we had the ball, of course we had to show off a little bit. Each shot had to be picture perfect three pointers. Each block had to be killer. Each rebound had to be epic. First lesson, ego and pride are stupid, get rid of them. I was playing center and rebounding was my forte when I used to play in academy. I figured I would put to work the skills I had developed since then. I went up for the rebound as well as two other academy students. I came down first. The first problem was I landed on the side of my foot. The second was the other guys landed on my foot as well. You can only imagine how much that hurt. I hobbled off the court and was benched for the game. I had played a total of five minutes.

On the bench, I would end up watching the rest of the game. I got to see my friends score and get scored on. It was a good game and I wished I could be a part of it, but here I was sitting on the sidelines watching the action. I felt completely useless. Others were getting to make the shots I wanted to take, getting to get the rebounds that I would have gotten, and playing in the game I wished I could play in.

The emotions were doubly strong that night, because I felt I had been benched in other aspects of my life. I was feeling like I was sitting on the sidelines while I watched everyone else live out the dreams I had. It probably came from the cool stories I had heard from other alumni of the things they were doing. I felt like I was wasting my time in college. I wanted to get started on climbing the seven summits, get started on traveling across the globe and making a positive impact. I wanted to get out and do something instead of being benched in school. It required a paradigm shift in order to get those thoughts out of my head.

I realized in order to get to those dreams I had to start preparing. High school prepared me well to be an adult. It taught me skills that I have used daily. College is now preparing me to take on my bucket list and begin making that positive impact and someday maybe climb the seven summits along with that positive impact. Yes, there are days when I wish I wasn’t sitting in class reading Classical (Koine) Greek, or working at a job that pays minimum wage. But these are both foundations for which I am to work off of. It’s not where I am spending the rest of my life, but it is a pit stop.

I eventually got off the bench. Sadly, I wasn’t able to return to the game. As it turns out I have fractured my ankle. But I do have time to prepare for next year’s game. I am able to prepare, the ankle hurts but it’s a lesson. A lesson to be content with where I am and work as hard as I can and learn as much as I can to get to where I want to be. 

Prescott—Oh Where, Oh Where Did My Weekend Go?

The weekend is way too short. It seems like Friday comes with a surge elated emotions. I’m on my time now. I don’t have school work to do. I can sleep in if I want to on Saturday and Sunday. I am able to have fun with my friends and just simply relax. Friday night comes and then goes. Saturday morning comes and then goes. Saturday afternoon and evening when all the fun is happening comes and then quickly goes. I’m usually asleep all morning Sunday, but I’m sure it too come and goes. Most Sundays have me working 4-5 hours; I study for another 5 hours, leaving me with 1 hour to just goof off. Not much. The only consolation I have is that my weekend has been spent well. This weekend I am thankful because I do have this consolation.

Friday night came with the usual rush to get ready for vespers 10 minutes before it starts then staying up way too late just talking good friends after the program is over. Saturday morning seems to come increasingly earlier. This is because of late I have been trying to get to Sabbath school at one of the local churches. At home I am pretty good with this; at Southern try as I might I always end up walking in 20 minutes late. It wouldn’t be so bad, but it seems as if every time as I think I’m subtly sneaking in unnoticed the teacher will smile and in the spirit of friendliness towards college students, stop the class and ask all about me. The question of my major inevitably is asked and I tell them I’m a Theology major. At this point they look at me, much to my chagrin, with the look that to me screams, “You’re a future pastor and you show up late to Sabbath School? You horrible person! Why would you even come if you know you’re going to be late?”

More likely it’s a sympathetic, “Oh, it must have been a rough week, but glad you are here anyway” look. I guess in my mind it’s just slightly over-dramatized.

Saturday afternoon comes and this is about the time when my friend group assembles. I’d like to think of this process is streamlined and efficient, much like a group of superheroes meeting up to fight an enemy. Sadly, it’s more like trying to herd sheep from multiple pastures into one sheep pen. Thankfully, I’m not the shepherd. It’s now mid-afternoon and we go to eat and goof off.

This particular weekend we decided to go hiking. We picked the park and were ready to go when we realized there were only so many seats in my buddy’s truck. Apparently, here in Tennessee it’s legal to throw as many people in the bed of the truck as you can fit and fly over hills and swerve around curves. Well, only if there over 18 that is. Since I get carsick easily I figured it would be a great time ride in the cab. No such luck. I was graciously volunteered to ride in the back of that moving death wagon. As we flew over hills and swerved around curves I did my best not to puke.

I know my guardian angel was busy on the trip, but we made it to the park alright. We hiked, we slack-lined (an incredibly fun and easy to set up low-hanging tightrope), we laughed had a good time and the sort.

Evening came we ate out and watched a movie, and now I find myself here. Studying for a psychology test, wondering where in the world my weekend has gone. I remember when it happened, and I remembered what happened (I know what you’re thinking; it wasn’t one of those weekends…). I just can’t believe it’s gone already. The good news is I only have to get through another five days and it’s next weekend. 

Prescott—Growing Up

Well, I’ve finally been rewarded. The week before last was miserably cold and still felt like winter. This past week and this weekend felt like spring had come to down and kissed the earth in eastern Tennessee. It has been amazing, the sun is out and shining, the breeze is warm and invited, the trees are out (not that they went anywhere over the winter) and are budding (only a few, but still), and yes of course the awkward couples are out as well, but we just ignore them around here and keep going about our business. This week was great and it put me in the mood for a great Saturday. I figured I would just go out and hike around or see some of the state parks, but my weekend plans got even better when I heard my sister was coming down for a visit. It’s rare that I get to see her and when I do one of us is on break and the other isn’t, making doing anything fun difficult. Since I’ve been down at Southern, I’ve found I enjoy the sport of rock climbing. Since this weekend was amazing and my sister was here at Southern, I had a great excuse to take her climbing with me.

Saturday came and after ARME sermons and seminars, potluck with a big group of friends and strangers who became friends we headed out to a little roadside climbing spot in Soddy Daisy called Leda. A few other climber friends I know also had family in town so we decided to bring them all and make a day of it. We arrived about mid-afternoon and started our “bring your family rock climbing at Leda” day. Ropes were set up and routes were climbed. A few of my sister’s friends went first and climbed one of the routes and then it was her turn. I was belaying her, which is a fancy term meaning I’m preventing her from falling if she slipped off the rock, knowing that I had her life in my hands; I did my very best. She was a natural and shortly was to the top and back down. We climbed for a little while longer before our time was cut short. She had another seminar she was going to go to so we called it a day and she left with the other friends.

This morning she and I had breakfast together and had a great time talking and just hanging out as siblings. I realized while we were eating, that we had eaten breakfast together so many times before, but this time it was different. Before, when we were younger we would see each other every day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were nothing too terrifically special because they happened often. We bickered and fought often, but now we don’t see each other all the time. We don’t have the opportunity to just hang out if we wanted to. We now have to schedule times for visits and then make the long drive and then leave after our time is up. It’s amazing how distance and age changes something as small as spending an afternoon and eating breakfast with your family. I shared this with my sister and she made the comment, “it is all part of growing up.”

She’s right. Time moves on and people we spent time with when we were younger soon start living their own lives and it’s at that moment we cherish the time we do have with them. Yes, I’m sad I won’t be able to see her that often as she’s back at school, but I am thankful for the times that I did get spend with her. I guess it is all part of growing up. 

Prescott—And We’re Back….

Well, spring break is over. More accurately, I should say break is over. I’m pretty sure winter and spring were in a custody battle over which season would get the month of March. As of last week I think winter won. In any event, the break is gone and school has started again, in full swing that is.

I’ve been busy studying for a test in psychology. The chapter is over memory, and so it is only fitting that I don’t remember what we discussed prior to the break. Then there is a major quiz in Greek awaiting me at the end of this week. When I say major quiz I mean the type of quiz I am required to get a hundred percent on or else I fail the semester. Granted, we are given the opportunity to retake the quiz until we pass, but it gets more difficult if a retake is necessary and the grade from the original quiz stands. Alas, it is also in a foreign language, which was spoken around 33 AD, thus further complicating the matter.  To round out the mix there is a project in personal finance, an assortment of essays reports and readings for my other classes; but to dwell anymore on these assignments would be to complain, and we can’t have that.

I realize the above paragraph has a slight sarcastic-cynical tone about it, but in truth I’m thankful. I greatly appreciate the opportunities to learn. I not always enjoy the methods employed in the learning process, but I appreciate the opportunities given to me. There are days when school is great, easy and fun. Then there are days when school is not so great, not so easy, and definitely not so fun. It’s especially hard coming of a break.

It’s the same principal that makes us hate Mondays so incredibly much. It’s nothing about the day in itself that is bad, but about what it brings. It brings us back to our responsibilities and to our jobs, and to school. We’re taken away from what had been the carefree, fun days of the weekend, the weekend where we are our own bosses and dictate what we do, how we do it and when we choose to do it. Mondays, especially the Monday after break, takes us away from what had been our time and put us back on someone else’s schedule. It would be great if every day were a weekend or if every week was the week of break, but then nothing would get done, the bills would go unpaid, and all of us, students, wouldn’t get that diploma signifying we’ve spent four years in college.

So maybe Mondays are a good thing. Maybe the Mondays are just a means to an end, our vehicle to finishing the task set before us and a way of motivating us to complete that task. Mondays are good. They are days of motivation. They are days of growing. They are days that put us one step towards the weekend. Whatever they are today is still Monday. So I offer parting words to those not wanting to welcome it, Happy Monday. 

Prescott—Blessings Disguised as Trials

Trials come in various shapes and sizes. They come at the best times and we overcome easily. They also come at the worst times and can crush us. This past weekend I have seen both. I have also seen blessings in disguise. It’s all a matter of perspective, whether we see the trial or a blessing. 

Prescott—Bragging Rights

To be done with a class is a great feeling. It gives a sense of accomplishment. This semester I’m enrolled in an online computer course. I noticed, when signing up for classes, that I could take this class online. This way I wouldn’t have to deal with a set time, and a set place. I would be free to work on the course work at my own pace which is a great concept. I also notice that I would be able to take the accelerated class, meaning by fifth or sixth week of the semester I would be able to complete the class. This was a great opportunity so I took it.

Last semester I had taken an online class and finished it in the set schedule. This semester I decided to push myself. I was going to finish the course in a week. I thought this was a great idea. Not only would I get work done, but I would also have bragging rights for all eternity.

My sister and I can be competitive. She got a very high score on the ACT, three times in a row. I was determined to beat her. I ended up close, but still below the mark. She always holds over my head getting a higher score, but conveniently forgets I was close to her score. My sister has also taken an extra year in college and muddled around with a couple of majors. So not only am I trying to graduate in three years instead of four, but I’m also intending to do it with only one major. Being able to complete the class in a week, would give me bragging rights whenever she brings up the ACT score.

First day of the semester came and I hit the books. Every free moment was spent trying to finish this class. By the end of the first day, I had completed three weeks’ worth of work. My brain also felt like mush. There was nothing else I could have worked on and so I went to sleep. The next day, I woke up early and kept working on the class. By the middle of the week, I had completed a month and a half of work. This is where the determination really kicked in. I saw the finish line and I could taste victory, but I was so mentally drained I could barely do simple math. As much as I focused in on the class my mind wandered. The problem wasn’t the difficulty of the work, but how incredibly tedious it was. Every single step had to be done in order and each little step was explained in excruciating detail in the book. There was no other way to finish the work either. I had to do it and I had to do it by the book.

Friday of that first week of classes came and I was ready to be done. I had all of the assignments done except for the last one. I slogged through it with about as much enthusiasm as a prisoner has for forced labor. At last I was finished with the assignment. I always double checked my work to make sure I didn’t have any errors. I decided to put that off for another day. The only problem was that other day turned into another week, then another month.

Here I am a month later and I’m just now getting around to double-checking that assignment. I’m looking it over and I see just how many errors there are. It looks awful. Not only that, but since I never submitted it on that Friday, I technically only now have completed the class. A full week before it is scheduled to end. My sweet taste of victory is gone, the finish line is now upon me, but the last bit of the race truly was the longest. Of course, I claim that since I finished the assignment on time I finished the class in a week, but my sister reminds me that only submitting the assignment counts.

In the end, the extra determination and leisure room only allowed me to procrastinate more than I normally would have, but I am glad I did work so hard in the beginning. I find myself finishing assignments ahead of time, albeit only a day or so ahead, but nevertheless ahead of schedule. The habit of working hard early so I could rest later really has paid off in the long run, even if I didn’t earn the bragging rights.