On my first day at Asbury, I packed my bags and returned home.
My mom attempted to drop me off for ImpactU camp the summer before my freshman year of high school, and I could not handle the fact that I would be three hours away from home for a week with strangers. I had no friends, no family, no one besides two family friends I barely knew in the area. I stood in the bathroom of the student center before I knew what the student center was and sobbed on the phone with my mom. I did not know the primary source of my anxiety, but I did know two things: I was not prepared, and I wanted to go home.
I am relatively reserved, so this reaction was out of character. Maybe moving my things into Glide-Crawford was a triggering factor, but I am guessing this anxiety had deeper roots than paint peeling from the walls and scary-looking carpet. In fact, I have never told any of my friends this story because I try to pretend it did not happen, and I try to portray myself as incredibly poised and collected.
Partially because of this experience and because my mom is an Asbury alumnus, in my college search, Asbury was dead last. However, I am also opportunistic, so I competed in as many scholarship competitions as possible, Asbury included.
I entered my interview confident. I worked four years after my terrible incident to prepare myself, and I would not go there, so the outcome did not matter. Two boys were interviewed in the same room as me, and as an incredibly independent and determined person, even though I did not want to come to Asbury, I wanted to stand out from them.
I began to pitch myself to the judges like I had multiple times before to others, but as I was talking, something shifted. My muscles relaxed, I sat up straighter and my words were clear. I shared some of my testimony (always relevant to the prompt, of course), and I recall saying something like: “At the end of the day, I do not want to be remembered for my academics or achievements. I want to be remembered for my heart.”
I continued my interview and knew where I was supposed to be. I felt the click that for months I longed for. Something shifted in my motivation, and in that interview, I was the most genuine and raw about who I was. But as one committed to the bit, I pretended like it did not happen. Asbury was at the bottom of my list, and I wanted to keep it that way.
I constantly prayed about my decision. One morning, I opened my Bible and read chapter one of Jeremiah. The passage essentially discusses being prepared and ready to do the work of the Lord.
I assumed God wanted me to humble myself and accept what I had already received. So, I put a housing deposit down for a state school 30 minutes away from my house because they gave me a sizable scholarship that would make college affordable.
Hours later, I was rolling a cookie dough ball in my hands, and my phone started buzzing. My Asbury admissions counselor Jeremiah Gonia (the best admissions counselor the world has ever known), called to tell me I received a scholarship from the competition. The scholarship amount made Asbury slightly more expensive than my chosen state school. The decision I wanted to make was clear.
I do not like trying to place myself in God’s point of view because I never will truly begin to understand the gravity of His movements at any moment. I do know that we may not be ready at first, but He prepares us. The timing will never be what we expect, and the decision may not even be what we want. But if we humble ourselves, accept our experiences for what they are and lean into the gifts He has given us, the blessings that come with following His plan are insurmountable. We do not have to be on this journey alone; even though we cannot see the complete story as it unravels, there is one. When I arrived at Asbury on the first day of my freshman year and moved into Kresge, there was not a tear of doubt in my eye. I knew two things: I am prepared, and I am home.
Leaning into God’s plan
On my first day at Asbury, I packed my bags and returned home.
My mom attempted to drop me off for ImpactU camp the summer before my freshman year of high school, and I could not handle the fact that I would be three hours away from home for a week with strangers. I had no friends, no family, no one besides two family friends I barely knew in the area. I stood in the bathroom of the student center before I knew what the student center was and sobbed on the phone with my mom. I did not know the primary source of my anxiety, but I did know two things: I was not prepared, and I wanted to go home.
I am relatively reserved, so this reaction was out of character. Maybe moving my things into Glide-Crawford was a triggering factor, but I am guessing this anxiety had deeper roots than paint peeling from the walls and scary-looking carpet. In fact, I have never told any of my friends this story because I try to pretend it did not happen, and I try to portray myself as incredibly poised and collected.
Partially because of this experience and because my mom is an Asbury alumnus, in my college search, Asbury was dead last. However, I am also opportunistic, so I competed in as many scholarship competitions as possible, Asbury included.
I entered my interview confident. I worked four years after my terrible incident to prepare myself, and I would not go there, so the outcome did not matter. Two boys were interviewed in the same room as me, and as an incredibly independent and determined person, even though I did not want to come to Asbury, I wanted to stand out from them.
I began to pitch myself to the judges like I had multiple times before to others, but as I was talking, something shifted. My muscles relaxed, I sat up straighter and my words were clear. I shared some of my testimony (always relevant to the prompt, of course), and I recall saying something like: “At the end of the day, I do not want to be remembered for my academics or achievements. I want to be remembered for my heart.”
I continued my interview and knew where I was supposed to be. I felt the click that for months I longed for. Something shifted in my motivation, and in that interview, I was the most genuine and raw about who I was. But as one committed to the bit, I pretended like it did not happen. Asbury was at the bottom of my list, and I wanted to keep it that way.
I constantly prayed about my decision. One morning, I opened my Bible and read chapter one of Jeremiah. The passage essentially discusses being prepared and ready to do the work of the Lord.
Pillars of Wellness: Relational Wellness
I assumed God wanted me to humble myself and accept what I had already received. So, I put a housing deposit down for a state school 30 minutes away from my house because they gave me a sizable scholarship that would make college affordable.
Hours later, I was rolling a cookie dough ball in my hands, and my phone started buzzing. My Asbury admissions counselor Jeremiah Gonia (the best admissions counselor the world has ever known), called to tell me I received a scholarship from the competition. The scholarship amount made Asbury slightly more expensive than my chosen state school. The decision I wanted to make was clear.
I do not like trying to place myself in God’s point of view because I never will truly begin to understand the gravity of His movements at any moment. I do know that we may not be ready at first, but He prepares us. The timing will never be what we expect, and the decision may not even be what we want. But if we humble ourselves, accept our experiences for what they are and lean into the gifts He has given us, the blessings that come with following His plan are insurmountable. We do not have to be on this journey alone; even though we cannot see the complete story as it unravels, there is one. When I arrived at Asbury on the first day of my freshman year and moved into Kresge, there was not a tear of doubt in my eye. I knew two things: I am prepared, and I am home.