Chapter 51 - A Student Again
Jared begins attending Oral Roberts University in the fall of 1997, and it seems strange not to have him home. We are slowly lowering our mortgage, clearing debt. And now we have college payments again—almost like another house payment—though Jared has some good scholarships.
One day Pastor Ted inquires, “When are you guys going back with Ywam into missions?”
“Probably in a couple of years,” I answer wistfully.
“I think I’ve heard that before,” he laughs.
“Well, we don’t have any church that will support us fully, so we’re trying to get a home paid for so its rent will help subsidize us.”
“Oh.” He nods and turns to leave.
“And sometimes we sell our home and build another one to quicken the process. I get to decorate a new house, and we clear more debt.”
“Good.”
During the twelve hour shifts of night nursing I feel like I am treading water in my missions calling—maintaining, but making no progress. We are involved in cell group ministry, but it doesn’t seem enough. Larry empathizes with me. “You like teaching…why don’t you get your masters at a seminary during these next few years?”
So I begin attending Fuller Seminary’s extension in Colorado Springs, one class a semester, and fresh hope breaks in. Theology, leadership, Greek, missions—these classes open new horizons of understanding, knowledge, relationships. I can reason, question, interact with peers and professors, and there is good purpose to it. I’m preparing to teach overseas!
Nick and Linda have moved to Tulsa to staff a church, so Jared has family in Tulsa. Madeline is born in February of 1998—a tiny, independent brown-haired bundle of life. I am incredulous—how can this small creature be our granddaughter? It seems not long since Nick was small and strong and squalling!
The years melt together with work and studies. I begin to take two classes at a time at Fuller. Jared graduates from ORU with a major in music composition in May of 2001. He is writing worship music and crossover songs—one that begins, “Neptune’s taming of the seahorse was rather late for an average year.” He moves home and becomes a music intern at New Life. He loves writing music…Desperation Band is born. Eventually he leads worship at church Saturday night and some Sunday morning services.
I also graduate in May 2001 from Fuller Seminary, with Will Stoller-Lee the administrator commending each of the graduates magnanimously. I feel sad to be done with classes…my studies have been so enjoyable!
“What if I continue and study for a doctorate, Larry? A Doctor of Ministry. It’s not as much work in original research as a PhD like my dad had. So, it would possibly take only two to three years.
“Check into it,” Larry suggests.
I discover I will need seven courses to level into the program at Fuller Seminary in Pasadena, California, and would have to live there for a time. At ORU in Tulsa it would only take three courses—and I don’t have to reside there. If I take one intensive week-long course a month, doing pre and post course work at home, I can complete the requirements during the fall of 2001, and enter the Doctor of Ministry program late, in February of 2002. Then I can attend classes at ORU for two weeks every four months—for a total of two years—finishing my research project after that.
I am excited! I apply and am accepted.
The Friday before I leave for my first class in Tulsa, Larry and I attend noon prayer at the World Prayer Center, near New Life Church. Arriving early, I walk around the large building praying, where flags of the nations wave on tall poles. Today things seem different somehow. I often see angels in the Spirit as I intercede, but today there are many of them. They are bright guards surrounding the huge building, clustered three to four deep. How strange…
At noon Ross Parsley leads the worship inside the building, and numbers of people walk around the room praying. Pastor Ted comes in at the end, and I ask him what is happening at the church today. I tell him about the large number of angels.
“Well, there’s a meeting of leaders here today,” he responds.
“I don’t think there’s so many for that reason,” I reflect. “It must be for something else.”
After driving ten long hours to Tulsa and sleeping in a hotel, I’m eager to begin fall classes. The first one is Old Testament Survey, and a lady professor teaches engagingly. It is themorning of September 11, 2001.
When we are interrupted by the news of the World Trade Center being bombed by a plane, there is shock and exclamation. After the second plane runs into tower number two we are all called to chapel, and after prayer dismissed for the day.
I sit in the hotel room watching the horrifying pictures on TV, talk to Larry on the phone. “It’s awful, Honey. Maybe that’s why I saw all those angels around the World Prayer Center. They were prepared to be summoned for this emergency? I’ve never seen it like that before.
After completing the three courses that fall, I enter the Doctor of Ministry program in February of 2002 on the 12th floor of ORU’s medical building. Tall white-haired Dr. Mayton is in charge, and he instructs the class of fifteen enthusiastically. “You want to track with the syllabus carefully to get the pre course homework done in plenty of time. We cover two courses each time you come, every four months.” He smiles. “So, it’s best not to get behind—it’ll be hard to catch up.”
“When you write your post course papers, you’ll be laying groundwork for the applied research project you’ll eventually choose and write in the third year. You each will narrow your focus to write an abstract—a long thesis statement—of what you want to research and prove in your area of ministry. Since each of you has had at least three years of active ministry, and you’re from all over the world, it’ll be interesting to hear your ideas.”
I look around. About half of our class is from Asia—India, Myanmar, and South Korea—and the rest from North America. There are four African Americans, three of them women. I am the only white woman.
The subjects are stimulating-- Leadership and Administration, Divine Healing, Pastoral Care and Counseling, Doctrine of God, Biblical Authority, Ministerial Identity, Preaching and Teaching. Larry is making good money building houses and can cover the tuition. Some students must work full-time and have difficulty keeping up.
I often study at a particular Starbucks coffee shop in Colorado Springs. Sometimes Jared meets me, and we catch up on life. He has recently bought a small house closer to downtown, and he and Larry renovated it.
One morning we sit outside in view of Pikes Peak, sipping coffee. “I’m getting to know this one girl from New Life, Mom. She’s tall, blond, beautiful. Has a good outlook on life. Is mature, loves the Lord.”
“Wow. Has she been to college?”
“Yeah. She’s a grade schoolteacher—is also working on her masters in counseling. And she drives a classy car.”
“Well, that’s important!” We laugh.
“She’s from Wisconsin. Grew up in a nice Catholic family. She’s coming over with others to decorate my house for the young adults Christmas party. You can show up to help and meet her.”
I arrive to decorate and am introduced to Megan. She is friendly and engaging, seems to have a gift of leadership and drawing out the best in people. As she and I wrap Jared’s spiral staircase with Christmas greenery, I wonder, “Will this girl be my future daughter-in-law?” She certainly is pretty.
In time we invite Megan to join Jared when we have him for dinner once a week. Discussion is lively…and I notice in between courses Jared often holds Megan’s hand, kissing it. I am impressed. “Larry, I don’t remember you doing that when we were dating,” I say, laughing.
“No, I didn’t,” he smiles. “But I had other good qualities.”
“Well, you kissed well!”
In a few months Jared shares his plan with us. He has visited Wisconsin and asked Megan’s dad for her hand in marriage. And he has our blessing. “I want you guys to be a part of the engagement surprise,” he tells us. “Dad, my friend Joe is going to pick Megan up at her classroom, with roses from me. I’m getting permission from her principal for a sub to take over for her that day. I want you to fly her to Montrose, where Mom and I will meet you at the airport. Mom, you and I will arrive the night before, and I’ll fix sandwiches in the hotel room. Then I’ll take Megan to Ouray for a picnic and propose…you know how beautiful the mountains are in Ouray. You and Dad can fly home, and we’ll arrive later that evening. How about it?”
“Wow, that’s an incredible proposal you’re planning, Jared. Do you think she can live through the surprise?”
“Well, I don’t want her ever to forget it,” he chuckles.
Larry renews his flying license, and all happens as planned. But the day is so windy the plane bounces high as Larry and Megan land in Montrose. We hug, then wave Jared and Megan goodbye as they drive off to their picnic. Later we fly home in the Cessna, picking our way through scattered clouds. When we land east of Colorado Springs, it is just before a blustery rainstorm. Larry hands the plane over to the rental agency and we thank God for protection!
As Jared and Megan make wedding plans, I continue attending ORU every four months, staying two weeks. A friend—Dr. Leanne Polvado opens her beautiful home to me in Tulsa—a great blessing.
Each week of class is unique, with a different instructor introducing truths we students can grapple with. Discussion is encouraged, so I often ask questions or make comments, and try to be concise. Other students also interject, but the Asians—half the class—rarely speak. One older student - I'll call him Stanley - seems to dominate the discussion time, often meandering off subject. After some minutes he will return to the main point, and the instructor will patiently respond.
One week the professor is covering systems in church government and congregational life, telling us that problems or glitches in systems generally work themselves out. I am intrigued. The instructor and I are in the elevator after lunch one day, so I inquire of him, “What if a student is long winded and slows the class down? Would you correct him, in this system of a classroom?”
“No,” he answers, smiling. “In the classroom context this problem will just work itself out.”
Was that my answer? Later in the day as Stanley begins monologuing, I decide to help the system. I raise my hand, and the professor acknowledges me. “I know we all have equal time to share, so when I have a long question or comment, I try to talk fast. Lately I’ve been restless and impatient because you, Stanley, make many comments and often wander off the subject. Since we only have so much time to hear the teaching, could you keep to the point?”
An awkward silence follows. I can tell the Asians are aghast. According to their cultures, I have been very rude. Stanley then defends himself. “I think I keep to the subject with my stories and comments, and I’m just expressing myself.”
There is more discussion, and the instructor quietly listens. Then one of the black women speaks. “No, Stan, you do take up a lot of time. You start a subject, talk in a circle, and finally come back to the point.”
“Well, if you say so, I guess I don’t have to talk. I can be quiet.”
Class resumes with neither Stanley nor me saying much that day or the next. We hear more from the professor….and the Koreans, Indians, and Burmese slowly begin to comment more often.
In August Megan walks down the aisle of the World Prayer Center with her father. As she slowly proceeds, each of her fourth-grade students stand in the aisle and hand her wildflowers, which makes her bridal bouquet. She is radiant, beautiful, and Jared standing by Pastor Ted looks as if he has won the world.
My eyes well up with joyful tears. Amidst our struggles God has led us to a great church with an amazing youth group to help our sons, has established them in life callings. And—as he is paying off our home, I am receiving excellent training for future teaching. The Lord’s plans are so good!
That fall Larry and I fly to Pune, India, and I teach a week in a YWAM school for my research project, giving pretests and posttests. The project—The Impact of Developing a Mission Statement upon International Christian Leaders—is intriguing to both Indian students and staff. We develop relationships with some of the leaders and begin to support them a little each month. Prabha, Mary, Vijayan and Niebano become long term friends.
In the spring of 2004 I defend my research project before an astute committee of four, which includes Dr. Mayton. He shakes my hand at the end. “Let me be the first to congratulate you, Dr. Anderson,” he exclaims, beaming! I am so grateful—Dr. Mayton’s encouragement has helped propel me through the process.
I walk down the graduation aisle with classmate Harrison Haokip from Myanmar, in May. We are the first two of our class to finish research projects and graduate. Mom and Dad are there to rejoice with Larry and me afterwards. Seasoned and worn from 38 years on the mission field, they are my hero's.
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