<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d5742108\x26blogName\x3dDiscount+Bananas\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://soonercary.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://soonercary.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-4225892882570869465', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Transitions

One thing that I love to do every year is help freshmen move into the campus dorm rooms. I've been able to do this now for several years on the campuses of University of Oklahoma, University of Alabama, and now Abilene Christian University. When I showed up on campus at OU next to the Couch Center dorm, a couple of guys from the Chi Alpha ministry appeared next to our car and cheerfully loaded all my junk to the seventh floor. I'll never forget that initial act of service that helped launch my college career. Nor will I forget the countless numbers of boxes, TVs, clothes, microwaves, an entire bags of shoes that I've been able to haul for others since that time.

But much more than seeing someone's day go faster is the larger experience of what is happening on Freshman move-in day: a massive door is opening to a new life. Standing in the middle of a crowded parking lot to catch your breath and looking around reveals interesting things.

Some students are arriving in little cars, alone with not much more than some clothes: They are abandoned, for one reason or another.

Some are with one parent or other family member: Broken homes or circumstances that don't allow their families to participate in this last rite of family living. Some arrive with carfuls of parents, siblings, and cousins.

Some scenes are comical from an outside perspective: Frustrated new students who are upset with the scenes their parents are creating about what needs to be done or what goes where. Some that obviously want these people to leave as soon as possible.

And other are more melancholy: those who stand at the car, embracing for what seems like hours with tears streaming down their faces.

Some say high school graduation is a rite of passage. I disagree. Graduation is a celebration of completion. Rites of passage are the fearful moments of staring something new in the face and stepping towards it bravely. On those days when I am carrying a mini-fridge up three flights of stairs, it is then that I am surrounded by young people that are actually experiencing a rite of passage. New and totally different days begin at that moment. Days that test and change who you really are. Days that will make some, and completely break others. Days that, for better or worse, will largely determine the rest of your life. These are the college years, and I love standing at the doorway to those times every year and helping another cross-section of humanity cross that threshold.


« Home | Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »

» Post a Comment