My Finale

I'm coming to the end of my career at Biola and what better way than to end it than Scrubs?  You see, hours upon hours, maybe even days, of my life at Biola was spent watching Scrubs.  The mostly comedic, but slight undertones of morality and justice to humanity made this show one of my favorites.  The 8 seasons, all resting comfortably on my hard drive, encapsulated the humor, sadness, friendship, loyalty, accomplishment, and value, that I sought during my years in college.  It may sound strange to others, but there was something redeeming in a show that I could watch to "unwind" and be gifted with a truth about how to treat others around you, or what really holds value in life.  The finale of the series ended gloriously with it's use of unknown-indie-rock-monologue in J.D. saying, 

"Endings are never easy... I’m not even sure why it matters to me so much how things end. I guess it’s because we all want to believe that what we do is very important. That people hang on to our every word, that they care what we think. The truth is, you should consider yourself lucky if you even occasionally get to make someone, anyone, feel a little better. After that, it's all about the people you let into your life."

This week is my finale at Biola.  Not like a "oh man you've been dead this whole time" (LOST reference), type of finale.  The ending I'm talking about it the kind that lame sitcoms depict with a man opening a door, the sunlight shining in the room making his body a silhouette, he turns around, smiles at what and whom he's leaving behind, and takes a step into the wild blue yonder. 

I will be honest in saying that I am filled with much trepidation.  Note: this is different than fear.  I am leaving an era of my life that was very comfortable.  I had a schedule that was set in stone for 18 weeks at a time, and then was given a new one that wouldn't change for another 18 weeks.  I sat in the same desk, had the same teachers, talked to the same friends, went home each night around the same time, got the same amount of sleep (not much), and every year was granted a reprieve for at least 6 weeks.  It wasn't a stereotypical "rammen and PB&J" lifestyle of a college student, but I definitely had my fair share of Jerry-rigged furniture, dorm room shenanigans, late night adventures, $2 dates, paradigm shifting conversations, and an ample supply of procrastination.

But in the end, after all that, it's the people that have made the largest impression on me while in college.  I've been asked if I thought it was "worth it" to go to such an expensive school.  It isn't until now, when I'm at the threshold of graduating, that I have an answer: YES.  Uncle Sam and I have spent more money at Biola than I care to add up and share with the blogging world, but each relationship was worth every penny.  Yes, there are some people that I may not speak to again as we go our separate ways, but their influence was crucial in my development as a person and as a student.  Other people are the kind of relationships that after they go on some crazy hippie adventure for 2 years, the brief times we reunite will seem like not a day has gone by.  And then there are the connections that last a lifetime.  The kind that you plan on being sappy vacation buddies with forever.  The kind that hopefully your kids will fall in love with their kids and then you'll always get to hang out and call them family.

I can honestly say that I have many of each kind from Biola.  And I'm thankful for each one.  And now that I can reflect more and more what Biola has meant to me, one of the most important parts is my wife.  The Biola cliché is: ring by Spring.  You may laugh, but girls all over campus are having the DTR (Define The Relationship) conversation to try to nudge their foot-dragging-boyfriend along.  Campus newspaper and magazine articles often talk about dating the right people, how to have a good first date, things to avoid, date ideas, and so on... and I always scoff.  I mean, it is a bit ridiculous!  But here I am, having taken incredible classes (and I would think this is bigger than just a Psych major), and each has taught me some amazing truths about women, who God created them to be, how to treat them, and how not to treat them, and what a marriage relationship is supposed to look like.

So here I am at my ending.  And I DO wish that I made an impact on people's life.  I'll admit that there were many times when I foolishly hoped people would hang on my every word, that I would be noticed and appreciated, that people would care what I think.  But at Biola I was graciously given that.  People do care what I think, people do care about what I have to say, they do value me.  And my hope is that somehow, after all is said and done, I will have made an impact on somebody's life.  I know I gripe and moan about school quite often (that's the mantle most college kids are required to take), but now that I'm near the end, my gripes aren't at the people.  The people are what matter.  I have issues with the system, and The Man of Biola (not Jesus, the other Man), but the people are incredible.  I'm thankful for those that I let into my life, and those that let me into theirs.

Bomb Shelters and Bears

Someday, long from now I will be strong.  I don’t mean gym-lifting strong.  I mean strong like an old man.  Old man strength is an incredible phenomenon.  I’m not sure when I happens but there’s some equation of [Life experience]+[age] that when the mixture is right, an old man becomes strong.  It’s the kind of strength that allows a frail old man to shake your hand with a vice-like grip.  It’s the kind of strength that allows a 50 year old man to single handedly lift the boat off the beach and then captain it away from shore.  It’s the kind of strength that allows a 75 year old man to build a storage shed that will withstand The Big One.  It’s the kind of old man strength that I know I don’t have, but pray that someday I will.

 

My Opa is one of the strongest men I know.  Today is his birthday.  He is 76.  I intentionally say “is”, and “know”, not “was” and “knew”.  He will never be a “was.”  His legacy is too strong.  His Old Man Strength built his legacy and sustains it.  At 75 he built a storage shed complete with windows and rain gutters.  In his 60s he built the bear at California Adventure. In his 50s he build buildings in LA and Long Beach.  All throughout his life he was a builder.  Bridges, buildings, chicken houses (not really, but that’s a family thing), train sets, mangers, certain things, and the all important contraptions.  More importantly he built a home.  He built a marriage and a life for a family that in the beginning had very little.  He came to the U.S. in 1960 with something like $4 in his pocket.  That didn’t stop him.  The makings of his Old Man Strength were brewing within his soul, even back then.  Over the years he built his bank account, his status, his education.  And his strength continued to pour out of him onto the world.

 

Even with him in heaven, I can still see the ripples of his Old Man Strength.  I see it in his wife of 49 years as she continues to strive each day to live with the strength and joy he gave her.  I see it in his daughter as she provides for the family under her roof, her mom, and the families that have moved on to other parts of the state.  I see his Old Man Strength in his grandsons as they still take the lessons they learned from him and apply them to life and the people they see.  I see his Old Man Strength every time I visit my Oma and smile at the shed/bomb shelter he built.  I see his Old Man Strength when I stroll through California Adventure and the bear is smiling up towards heaven.

 

Old Man Strength is incredible.  It’s a force so strong, yet at the same time so delicate.  His touch at one moment is full of embrace and warmth in a hug, and bubbling beneath the surface of that embrace is a strength and determination of will and protection that seems endless.  Opa is strong.

 

Someday I want to be strong like my Opa.  When I’m 75 I want to be able to carry a 90lb sack of soil like it was 10.  I want to be able to embrace my wife of 54 years with utter devotion and tenderness.  I want to be able to live each day devoted to my Jesus, devoted to my family, striving to live with joy and compassion, and still under the surface be able to arm wrestle my grandkids and win.  Thanks Opa for your Old Man Strength.