Reflection

"All truth is God's truth." -Arthur F. Holmes, The Idea of A Christian College


When I first heard that phrase hours after stepping on foot at OBU's campus, I never realized how much they would shape my life.
Even before arriving at OBU, I read Holmes' words and felt challenged by them. Each time I have re-read the book to be a Tri-W, I always walk away with something that I didn't catch before.
I remember talking about this idea during my initial book study, and then the other two that have followed.


But sitting here, reflecting on 3 years and beginning my last at OBU, I am in awe. I am in awe of the Creator God--how He is truth, His word is true, and His how His promises ring true. The road that He has lead me on since first hearing those words has been an incredible one.
God's truth has lead me to experiences I never dreamed I would have.
Experiences that have shaped me and formed me to the person I am today.
Experiences that have allowed me to meet and build relationships with professors, peers and people from all over the world.


In my almost 4 years at OBU I have experienced loss, gain, excitement, heartache, and complete and utter joy. I've been so blessed to attend the Liberal Arts University that I have; at it I have been challenged in my beliefs, my desires and who I am.
At OBU I tried new things, tried to hold on tightly to old things and fell flat on my face. I met people who helped me get back on my feet and challenge me to this day.


Through OBU I've been able to live in the Amazon Jungle, meet sweet Indian friends (and American ones), and become part of an African family. Through OBU I've become part of a family; a family of Bison, and more importantly, a family of servant-hearted kingdom builders.
In conversing with Hindus, Muslims, Traditional Religion-followers, I've learned from all of them. I've walked away with truths that I wouldn't trade for the world.


The end is bittersweet. In two days, the first of the lasts will begin. But the best part is, my time on Bison Hill may be wrapping up, but it's only the beginning of another adventure.

Lessons from a Mango tree; journal entry from West Africa

Months later, the Father brings me back to this journal entry from West Africa. 

"Give this to me when you go to America." 

The Mango tree in the front yard has small, tiny green unripe and premature mangos on it. "Give me a mango! If I don't get one now, someone else will get it!" 

30 Children approach our truck. "Give me an egg! Just one egg!" "Give me money!" "Give me your shoes!" 

In this place, we are constantly being asked for things. Every week, our housekeeper in the city asks for my ipod. My answer never changes, but yet she always asks. It's draining. It's heart-hurting. It makes me think about the way I am with the Father. There are times when all I do is ask. The reason the people here ask for things is because they believe we have so much that we can afford to give everything away and then get more things later.

 The reason I ask is because I'm selfish, but also because I forget my place. The people here don't know their place; the little children that jump up and down grabbing my hand and arm long for attention, oblivious to the fact that they are loved and cherished more than they can imagine. 

I DO know these things, and yet why do I forget? Why do I approach my Father forgetting who He is, and who I am to Him? I know that His way is perfect, that His word proves true, and that He will provide and protect me. And yet, I always ask without stopping to think that things could be going on for my good. We tell the children no because an unripe mango is bad for them, and that waiting for them to be ripe is for their good. Right now, I'm realizing that the season I'm in is like a chlid asking for a mango. 

But instead of asking the next day, and the next, I'll wait patiently until the mango is ripe.