Freshman Blog

WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH!

I roll over, and am slapped in the face by the overwhelming, unwelcome sunlight.  My reflex is to yank the cover back over my head, to block the angry rays out of my pleasant dreams. 

"7:31," the alarm clock shrieks in a neon shade of red.

Pshh, I have plenty of time.  I don't even have class until 10:00.  Reaching over and fumbling with the buttons and switches, I set the buzzer to go off at 8:30.  Then, I roll back over and give in to my original reflex, slowly and deliberately pulling the covers back over my head. 

By 7:32, I'm completely knocked out.

Lazily, I open my eyes and am welcomed by a committee of the sun's rays.  My entire dorm room is filled with their majesty.  I swear I can even hear birds chirping...

Yawning and stretching simultaneously, I glance over at the clock. 

"9:54," it tells me.

Oh ok, it's only... Wait, WHAT?!

"9:54."

I have class in 6 minutes!  I bolt out of the trap from Satan - I mean, " the bed" - and dash into the closet.  Usually I try to at least smell nice when I have a class at MMI, but... no time for a shower today!  A pair of jeans is yanked off the top of the dirty clothes mountain and a t-shirt is snatched off of the hanger.  I get dressed in record time.

Like lightening, I appear in the bathroom - toothbrush in left hand, hairbrush in right.  Once my breath is fresh and my hair is detangled, I begin to ferociously wipe away smeared eye make-up.  

For the President's Reception last night, I had worn last year's prom dress, with dramatic eye make-up to match.  This morning however the only words my mind could muster were "Make-up is overrated."

I glance at the clock; "9:58," it says.

Heading back into the room, I seize my backpack, tossing my Spanish and biology materials inside.  I unzip the front pocket and retrieve my keys.  As I walk towards the door, I stumble on something... What in the world?

Shoes.  Yep, I probably need those.

I shove my feet inside as I stride towards the door.  Right before I exit, I peer back at the clock... one last time.

"10:00."

Now if you're anything like me, then you want a significant ending to this story.  Something you can think about, learn from, or maybe convince you that I am a mature young adult.

But I've got nothin'.

I can tell you however that  I got caught at a red light, making me curse its inventor, then raced to MMI (not really, deputies of Marion.)  Breathlessly, I made it to class at exactly... (drum roll, please).....

10:06.

Just know this, and never ever forget it: Facebook, Youtube, and Picnik are all evil, and their wickedness increases as the night goes on.  They make you 6 minutes late for Spanish, cause you to stink when surrounded by MMI cadets, and put you in a really grumpy mood that hinders you from reaching your full potentional at Judson College. Just sayin'.

That's all folks.

Here I am, about to head back to my hometown for the weekend.  The very first time I've seen my family since that tragic, unavoidable farewell in the parking lot of the Kirtley Residence Hall.

I should be anticipating what I'm going to do when I see my mama.  I should be plotting how I'm going to surprise my brothers, since they don't know I'm coming.  I should be mentally organizing all the stories I'm going to tell my dad.  At the very least, I should be planning what to wear to my high school's rival football game tonight.

But instead, I'm thinking about how excited I am to study.  To be more accurate, maybe I should say "estudiar"... since my enthusiasm for the courses I'm taking includes the Spanish 102 class that I have at MMI.

Now, anyone who really knows me KNOWS that I don't like to study; usually, I just don't do it.  I'm a listen-in-class kind of learner. 

But then again, I've never taken interesting courses.  (No offense, high school teachers!)

Now I find myself with 16 hours of legitimately interesting material - though next semester may be a different story, since I'll be taking math and history. :/

Tuesdays and Thursdays are my favorites because I have Old Testament with Dr. Brooks, Introduction to Missiology with our missionary in residence, Judson 101 with Dr. Arnold, and English Composition with Mr. Turner.

Without a doubt, hands down, no question about it missiology is my favorite thing ever.  It's a small class, consisting of 10-ish students.   On the first day, which was last Thursday, we all shared a little bit about ourselves, attempting to get to know each other.  Then our teacher shared her testimony with us - which nearly brought me to tears.  She was so real with us, so open and honest...even in the tough parts of her story.  Every time we've met since then, the class has opened with the sharing of prayer requests, followed by a word of prayer. 

I was hoping that this would be a place where I would be able to grow spiritually, and be better prepared for the mission field and the work that God has set apart for me to do.  And Judson is exactly where that's happening. 

However, I never dreamed that my views would be challenged, that my ideas would be questioned, that I would actually begin the process of figuring out for myself what I believe... rather than being spoon-fed my Truth by my parents and those around me.

But on my first day of college (last Wednesday) I found myself in a state that one could label as "highly offended."  Yep, right here at good ol' Judson College, a womens' Christian College, in the heart of Dixie, a big fat loop on the Bible Belt holding up the Conservative Christian mindset of the deep South.  It was the first time I'd ever heard science taught as bluntly liberal as by Dr. Wilson. 

After five classes though, I've calmed down.  And though I'm not at a point where I can agree or disagree with him, I can honestly say that I am thankful for the things he is teaching.  Yes, "fundamentalist" Christians, this sweet little Southern belle just said that she's grateful for liberal teachings. Now, pick your jaws up off the floor. (:

You see, I've never heard these things before... except for "at a distance."  So I find myself questioning: How can I reach those who base their theology strictly on science - without any regard to the word of God - if I had never even heard the other side of the argument?  I would be totally ineffective, utterly useless... and I'd look pretty dumb too. 

As an evangelical Christian, I see things through the spectacles of the Gospel... eventually.  Sometimes it takes me a little while, like in my present situation. 

I have come to realize for myself that everything points to the Gospel.  Everything in the galaxy of Scripture revolves around the Son on the cross.  Every decision made in church business meetings should therefore revolve around how far the said proposal will take the Gospel.  Every prayer request mentioned between Christians should focus more on the soul, rather than on the sickness.  Every word we say, in every situation, should be part of others' journey toward salvation.

God is using my first year of college experience to mold me into the disciple-making disciple that He asks me to be.  So... yay for Biology!

My jittery, sweaty palms gripped the steering wheel as my mom and I mentally made sure I had everything.  As near as we could tell, every item I would need was stowed away in cardboard boxes, plastic storage containers, and suitcases in either my vehicle or my dad's, which was trailing along behind us... somewhere.  "Where is he?" we wondered aloud in unison.

Our destination was Judson College.  The sound of the words said aloud was as sweet as the harmony in an angels' chorus.   The taste of it on my lips was comparable to honey, one of my favorite things to put on a sandwich with peanut butter.  It's one of only two colleges that I applied to, and the only one that I was willing to attend.  The first time I visited the campus, which was Junior Day 2009, I fell in love and knew that it was exactly where God wanted me.  And by His sovereignty, He prepared the way. 

Suddenly we arrived.  The turn came sooner than I was expecting; I could've sworn it took longer to get here last time...  And so began the check-in/move-in process. 

After my mom and I had taken care of paperwork (which was an extremely smooth process - I was very impressed!), my dad and brothers finally arrived.  Immediately, upperclassmen, alumnae, and members of Siloam Baptist Church began unloading our two SUVs and completely emptied them by the time I walked out to the parking lot to carry things in.  I was so grateful for their hard work and faithfulness to Judson College.  It was truly a blessing!

I had already met my roommate and one of my suitemates at SOAR (Student Orientation and Registration) in June, so I knew exactly who I was looking for - and it was a glorious reunion when I saw those two girls!  Everyone began unpacking while my two brothers sat on my freshly made bed and played UNO.  Our families worked very well together, so Whitney and I were unpacked and situated in no time! We ate dinner with our families in the dining hall, and headed back to the dorms to tell our families that horrid, hyphenated word - "good-bye."

To avoid tears, I'll skip over this part and let the picture suffice.  I refuse to say that it wasn't sad or that my mom didn't cry, because it was and she did.

This first week at Judson has been great, to say the least, though I can't seem to get caught up on sleep!  Hopefully, now that Welcome Week is over, things will settle down.  The What Not To Wear Program, Personal Safety Assembly, and other scheduled events were helpful and informative; however, I have come to the realization that pre-scheduled days make me tired. 

Though I knew that Judson College was unique in its traditions and Sisterhood, I didn't realize how beautiful she truly was.  Learning about the interesting traditions and rich heritage of the Judson Sisterhood has struck me as absolutely magical.  The history of my school is a lovely quilt, made from the fabric scraps of personalities and dreams, woven with the thread of knowledge and faith.  I feel honored to be a part of that quilt, that Sisterhood which has survived for over 170 years.  To sing on the steps of Jewett Hall with my sisters, to picnic with the MMI cadets, to weave the ivy chains for Rose Sunday - it all defines me as what I now am.  I am, and forever will be, a Judson girl.