Filby being filmed fora documentary, which is expected to premiere at the Sundance Film Festival.

by Ivan Filby

Dean of Fermanian
School of Business

My first year at PLNU has been challenging and wonderful in equal measures. It has been challenging because, for the first time in 21 years of marriage, I have been separated from my wife and children. My wife and daughter have remained in Il­linois so that my daughter can fin­ish her senior year of high school without moving states; my son is a freshman at Seattle Pacific Univer­sity. It has been wonderful because exceptional friends and colleagues in the Fermanian School of Business, Provost’s Council and throughout the university have surrounded me. I have been challenged to rethink my views of sustainability, art and tacos! More than that, the year has reaffirmed my commitment to the Christian liberal arts. A Christian liberal arts education is intended to be transformational both for students and professors. It helps us to think deeply about complex issues that matter and to personally and corpo­rately be transformed as together we struggle to find truth. I have found PLNU to be a place where professors and students are unafraid to address the difficult questions of our time. I am delighted that my daughter will be at PLNU next year to experience all of this.

I am also thrilled to see how the Holy Spirit is moving on this cam­pus. I have enjoyed meeting with students in my apartment, during Tuesday Night Fire, in Chapel and over coffee in Bobby B’s. Like you, I keep singing that God would “Set a fire down in my soul that I can’t con­tain, that I can’t control; I want more of you, God.” Christian liberal arts educational institutions often remind us of how we need to be transformed by the renewing of our minds (Ro­mans 12:2). That is certainly true, but this only really happens in the context of offering all of ourselves as living sacrifices to the God who calls us together to be his arms and feet.

So back to my year of living apart from my family: it has been a won­derful year. It has been a year in which I have been able to pray more and enable God to search through the pain and dirt in my own life and plant new seeds of hope and transfor­mation. It has been a year in which I encountered God again and again. PLNU is a good place to be.

by Stephen Goforth

Assistant Professor of
Journalism

dodg­ing raindrops in Vancouver right now. A Canadian school made me a generous offer to join their fac­ulty and I was ready to head north of the border. Before leaving the deep South for ice hockey and Tim Hortons, my daughter and I agreed we would first visit a small private school in San Diego.

I had never heard of PLNU or the university bearing its name. In fact, I had only stumbled on a post advertising an opening for a journal­ism professor at Point Loma Naza­rene University because my son was considering a graduate school in the area. During our visit, I kept the Ca­nuck offer tucked inside my front coat pocket as a reminder that if I didn’t like what I saw, I had some­where else to go.

Like most campus visitors, we were “wowed” by the view of the water. But that’s not what brought us to PLNU. In a very natural way, the professors showed me their pas­sion for learning and teaching. Their respect toward my daughter showed her an attitude that extended to each of their students.

This is the kind of place where you can make the argument that do­ing something is in the best inter­est of the students and it will carry weight. This is the kind of place that genuinely cares about the young lives entrusted to it.

I want my daughter to know that kind of support and care during her formative college years. You may have seen the photo she took that graced the front of this year’s PLNU Christmas card. Like that gorgeous ocean sunset, my first year at PLNU is winding down. It was both ex­hausting and exhilarating. It was a great choice — for both of us.

by Callie Radke

features editor

A few weeks ago, you might have had a friendly, smiling student knock on your door and ask you to write down a prayer request. If so, then you probably have a raffle ticket somewhere in your room that matches one that is attached to a prayer. And if you have that, then your request has been prayed for by a stranger four times through The Watch, a group started by PLNU seniors to intentionally pray for the PLNU community.

Those involved with The Watch collected anonymous prayer requests from students and staff and have been meeting to intentionally pray for those requests. All students were invited to participate in prayer nights in the ARC on April 8, 9, 15 and 16.

Senior Corey Schwarz helped to instigate the group with fellow seniors Charis Branch and Aubree Lew. The three arrived at the idea when they realized they wanted to leave PLNU having made a differ­ence. They felt that God was calling them to pray.

“We prayed and brainstormed what our senior class could do to not simply coast through our last five weeks, but to offer everything we have in furthering the kingdom of God in this place,” said Schwarz via email.

The group believes that this kind of intentional prayer is impor­tant because it allows participants to both submit prayers anony­mously and have them prayed for in a focused way.

“I think that there is something really important about us stepping outside of ourselves in prayer,” said Branch. “There are so many things that people could use prayer for that are completely going unrecognized just because there might not be the opportunity to share.”

The fact that the prayer requests have been submitted anonymously is part of what sets The Watch apart from other prayer groups. That way, students and staff can submit prayers without feeling constrained about how others might perceive what’s on their hearts. Senior Katie Haeuser was able to join for one of the nights of prayer in the ARC.

“I think the fact that there is an anonymous factor allows students to be open and vulnerable in a way that they wouldn’t in a setting where they would be verbally sharing prayer re­quests,” said Haeuser. “The authen­ticity is extremely raw.”

The Watch will culminate in a prayer and worship night on top of the library on Tuesday. There, stu­dents and staff are invited to pray for the collected prayer requests and join in worship. During finals week, the prayers gathered from students will be given back to the dorms, where the students who wrote them can pick them up using correspond­ing raffle tickets.

“We are able to participate in this incredible act of having honest con­versations with God, yet we so often forgo it,” said Schwarz. “We believe in the power of prayer and the unify­ing consequences of it.”

Professor Noble has served as the community health guru for PLNU’s school of nursing for sev­eral years. Her unique position was not as a teacher of a one-semester course, but rather as an ongoing instructor throughout the program. Every semester she would visit each nursing course and provide use­ful community health information. However, what Deanna Noble will be remembered for is perhaps not the curriculum she taught. As her advisee, I look to her as a mother figure — one who genuinely cares for me, one who would never accept a one-word answer in response to the question, “How are you?” She constantly provides me with encour­agement and affirmation. Her gentle smile and sweet disposition will be greatly missed on this campus!

Ben Foster

PLNU Commencement Program Biography

With his retirement this year, Professor Ben Foster will con­clude a 45-year career as faculty member and coach at PLNU. He entered Pasadena College as a student and athlete in 1964 and upon graduation in 1968, joined the college as a coach and kinesi­ology faculty member. Since that time he and his student-athletes have earned a noteworthy collec­tion of honors. When asked about the focus of his work, Foster is clear: “I’m a professor at Point Loma Nazarene. I have not been in the business of sport. I’ve been in the business of education. I’ve just had the privilege of teach­ing through the medium of sport. That’s pretty meaningful to me.”

Hadley Wood

Deyanira Kroncke, Contributor

Dr. Wood is single-handedly one of the best people that I have met throughout my time at PLNU. She is by far one of my favorite profes­sors, and I can honestly say that she is one of the reasons that I will be walking across that stage in May. She invests in her students beyond aca­demics and actually takes the time to get to know them. She has years of wisdom and always has good advice to give if you’re willing to ask. Every­thing that I’ve ever heard from her has been encouraging.

PLNU was lucky to have Dr. Wood as a professor, and all the stu­dents that had her should consider themselves fortunate to have been in any of her classes.

by Jonathan Soch

staff writer

Not many people at PLNU might know Eric Maliepaard. As one of the shuttle drivers working for the school, he is responsible for driving the on-campus shuttle in the early mornings on Tuesdays and Thurs­days. He can be recognized by his short beard, black jacket and ever-present golf-style cap.

Maliepaard has been working at PLNU for more than five years and lives near SDSU with his wife and two daughters. He says that he first got a job driving the shuttle when his friend’s father asked if he could take over for the previous driver. He had originally driven buses for his church before he was asked to come to PLNU. He decided to take the job, but had originally told the school that he could only stay for a few years. He didn’t intend to con­tinue the job for long.

“I have known Eric for four years,” said fellow shuttle driver and senior student Stuart Ballew.

“He is one of the funniest, most interesting, but… the most gener­ous person I know, hands down,” said Ballew.

According to Ballew, it’s a gen­erosity that is always present with Eric. “It’s never to try and take care of himself. He always gets it when it comes to people taking care of each other in really realistic ways,” Ballew said.

“I just fell in love with the atmo­sphere at the school,” said Maliepaard. “We all help each other out and it is a very healthy work environment.”

Although his early hours could pose a problem, he claims that they are not too difficult since he enjoys driving for the students.

“The places I take them are fun as well,” he said. Maliepaard is often responsible for driving the students to special or off-campus locations in addition to driving the on-campus shuttle.

“I would pay to go to the places I get paid to go to,” he said. “My favor­ite is when I take a class and get to tag along and learn about places.”

Although his hours driving for the school are long, he stills enjoys his work.

“I am used to being on the road,” he said in regard to driving students to and from events. “So when I go somewhere far, although I miss my family, I always enjoy exploring new towns and usually get plenty of time to do so. I just have to be on time to pick up the group.”

Despite the fact that he spends so much time driving, Maliepaard loves working on bicycles. He likes to build and restore bicycles and mo­torcycles as well as mopeds, scooters and “all things in between.”

After he finishes with his bikes, he often sells them. Although he has not sold many recently, he does hope to finish the prototypes for two bikes that he is currently work­ing on. For the past 10 years he has been working on a small motorbike prototype that he hopes to eventu­ally mass-produce.

According to Ballew, working on bikes is something he and Eric do together.

“We make bikes all the time. Sometimes he’ll give me a bike that he has and I’ll help him sell it, or vice versa,” Ballew said.

“As a [hobby and ministry] I work with film, so the plan is to plug the bikes into some kind of docu­mentary,” said Maliepaard.

He hopes to fund his ministry films by selling his bikes, though he sometimes donates them.

One of the films that Maliepaard helped work on was a documentary called “The Road Trip U.S.A.” The film, a documentary about three men who travel across the U.S. and teach about Christ, is available on iTunes.

“You guys are amazing. The places I get blessed to take you are fun,” he says. “I thank God for my job and all of you.”

by Kaylie Pullin

staff writer

Volare is not a restaurant to im­press your date with, it’s not a place to go if you like being waited on hand and foot and it’s most definitely not somewhere you want to go if you want a romantic, Italian atmosphere. Oh, and did I mention that it’s locat­ed directly next to a sex shop?

However, if you are in the mood for a steaming hot plate of home cooking and comfort for a great price, Volare is the place for you.

Pomodoro Ristorante Italiano is my favorite Italian restaurant in San Diego that I’ve tried so far. Fabulous food, fair pricing, heaping portions and wonderful service (frequently from attractive Italian males, ladies). After making plans to go to Pomo­doro and then learning that it closed at the time we were planning on go­ing, we jumped on Yelp and found Volare, which had great reviews and that marvelous, single “$” next to it.

Volare’s atmosphere is not wel­coming. Besides being located next to Barnett Ave. Adult Superstore, the inside looks as if it hasn’t been up­dated since opening in 1978. As the four of us walked in, we awkwardly stood in the entry for several minutes before peeking around the corner and realizing that nobody was going to seat us anytime soon.

After seating ourselves at a table with a green tablecloth and paper place mats, we were given menus. Several minutes later we ordered wa­ters, which took at least five minutes to make it to our table.

We were served by an Italian woman speaking broken English, who I assumed was the “Ma” in this “Ma-and-Pop” kind of joint. We or­dered our food and about 10 minutes later it was delivered to us.

I asked for the gnocchi (little po­tato pillows) and holy ravioli it was delicious. For $8.50 it was an enor­mous portion, which pleased my growling stomach. Gnocchi is hit or miss at most restaurants; it’s an ex­tremely temperamental dish to make, as even the humidity can affect the outcome of the dumplings. Volare’s gnocchi was perfectly cooked and the sauce was rich and flavorful.

My group of three friends or­dered the eggplant parmesan ($6.25), a half plate of cheese ravioli ($4.95) and fettuccine alfredo with chicken ($8.25). I tried the eggplant parme­san and thought it was delicious; however, my friend who ordered it and frequently makes it herself didn’t think it was anything too special. I also tried the alfredo and thought it was wonderful. The chicken was flavorful and quality meat and the sauce was creamy, but not so much to where it overpowered the flavors. Both the eggplant parmesan and the alfredo came with enough for left­overs. We also ordered garlic bread (which for some reason was not on the bill), and although it tasted good, it wasn’t quality whatsoever. It looked like a plain ol’ toasted sesame hot dog bun lathered in butter and garlic.

Our entire meal came out to $30.45. Not bad for four entrees and an appetizer.

Although I truly appreciate Volare’s delicious home cooked food, cheap prices and “Ma-and-Pop” vibe, I don’t plan on returning. Between the lack of service and unwelcom­ing atmosphere, I wasn’t impressed. I will be sticking to Pomodoro for the days when I need a delicious, Italian carbohydrate fix.

3528 Barnett Ave

San Diego, CA 92110

by Karisa Ham

staff write

I could talk about the first day of NSO, about how my parents and I had to skip a session so I could cry my heart out in the Subway parking lot. College was as terrify­ing for me as moving alone to the sub-Saharan nomad village where I grew up would be for you. I could talk about how hard the nursing program was. How it made me question everything I had ever be­lieved about myself and humanity and God.

I could talk about how Cauca­sian this school is, including my­self, and how I yearned to hear some different accents being spo­ken. I could talk about the fashion and the body image issues and the unspoken rules that everyone else seemed to know instinctively. I could talk about getting/missing out on your ring by spring.

But I guess that sounds kind of bitter. I am not bitter toward my college experience. I look back now and my heart says, “It was good.” I actually remember something from The Road Less Traveled, from Psych 101. I think the last chapter says something about grace being the one reason that all our lives are not steadily disintegrating into chaos right now. OK, so maybe I don’t remember a whole lot from that book. But it’s funny to me how something I read and forgot about has come back to be a defining word in my life.

I know we talk about grace a lot at a Christian University. Probably second only to the word ‘Com­munity’ (ironically I’m terrible at living out both of those words). We say “grace and peace” to each other. We thank God for his grace. We have friends whose names are Grace. We listen to songs by U2 called Grace. But my four years here have taught me the true mean­ing of the word as far as actually living it out with myself and other people.

Grace means understanding that people at PLNU look and act a certain way, and that’s OK. It’s also OK if you are the one who looks and acts differently. Grace means looking everyone in the eye and ac­knowledging them even when they might respond to you like you have four heads and are painted green. Grace means getting burritos with people who have opposite political opinions as you. Grace does not mean you have to be a happy per­son all the time. But it does mean that when others are not happy and you are, you get to give them a little hope, make them feel a little more like a real person, regardless of who they are.

And grace is for me as much as it is for other people. I am grateful to God for using PLNU to teach me what grace is. It is looking ev­eryone’s faults, including my own, right in the face and saying, “Well, God, it is what it is. Here’s my life. Make it what you want.

Thank you for your grace.

Thank you for Jesus.”

by Ian Mckay

contributor

There is a box sitting in the cor­ner of my dorm room right now. So far there are three books and a disorganized binder full of papers piled inside. Over the coming days I have a lot to cram in boxes: clothes, books, pictures. My life these past four years.

I didn’t want to come to PLNU. I begged my Dad to take me home at the end of NSO. I was afraid. I didn’t want something new. I didn’t want to face the unknown. After the first week of school I reluctantly un­packed my boxes and convinced my­self that I would leave in December. God disagreed.

Four years later I think about the ways that God has provided such a rich and meaningful experience for me. I think about the freshman I was and the senior I am. I think about how fast these past four years have gone even when it seems like the nights of studying have dragged on. I think about the pleasure I’ve had serving as student body president. I think about the mistakes I’ve made and the grace I’ve been shown.

I get stressed just looking at the stuff in my dorm that I need to pack. The textbooks, my collection of Caf mugs, that horrible futon. But I’m more stressed about what I can’t pack. How do I pack the friendships, the challenges and the rewards of four years in a cardboard cube? How do I neatly fold the conversa­tions that happen long after the Caf empties? Where do I stuff sunrises from the top of Brown, all-night road trips to the Grand Canyon and library dance parties?

I’m terrified of these past four years collecting dust in some box bur­ied deep in the attic of life.

But if college has taught me any­thing it is that fear of the unknown is the most foolish of fears. God has given us a box full of experiences, memories, heartache, joy and, most of all, hope. Hope that whatever the Sunday after graduation brings, God is already there waiting to add to our stories. This is not the final chapter nor the most exciting one, and there is so much more God wants to add to the box of our lives.

I feel like I am ready to graduate. Not because I am sick of this place, but because I think that this place has given me what it needed to. There will always be more to learn, more oppor­tunities to practice our faith and more time to grow in community. And that doesn’t have to all happen here. The important thing is that we take our passion for learning, our desire to be faithful and our pursuit of community wherever we go.

So when you pack the past four years of your life after graduation and blow past that stop sign on Lomaland for the last time, remember that one box full of things that shouldn’t fit and don’t belong in a box. And wherever the next journey starts, whether in Mission Beach or Malaysia, unpack that box first. It’s full of the things that have brought you to where you are to­day because of this place.

by Kyle Lundberg

Editor-in-Chief

“I like to see people debate on things we can never come to an an­swer to,” Ballard says.

The PLNU senior did not grow up in a religious household, but attended what he describes as a “fundamental­ist Baptist school” from elementary all the way through high school. He came to PLNU because he was interested in a Christian school but wanted to es­cape the strict educational structure he had been confined to up to that point. During his first semester at PLNU, Ballard was placed in an ecology and conservation class where the professor asked him to seriously engage the con­cepts of evolution and the big bang.

“I read through that and was skeptical and hesitant, but I couldn’t on good conscience deny it,” he says. “If this is true, how does my faith in God work with it? That was kind of the first break for me.”

According to data recently re­leased by the Pew Research Center, the number of people in the U.S. with no religious affiliation, also called the “nones,” is growing rap­idly. According to Michael Gerson of The Washington Post, this group has grown from a mere 2 percent of the population in 1950 to 20 percent today. These gains can be seen in all regions of the nation. But, as Ger­son reports in a recent column for the Post, “none” is a broad term that does not necessarily mean agnostic, atheist or non-spiritual.

“So the nones are united,” he writes, “not by reading Richard Dawkins or by any particular set of theological beliefs but by a com­plete lack of attachment to institu­tional religion.”

The Role of Education

One of the oft-cited factors in the rise of the nones is the role of educa­tion. Some statistics have shown that up to 80 percent of students will lose their church attachments by their se­nior year of college. And yet, a study released by the University of Texas at Austin in 2007 shows that those who graduate from a four-year university are more likely to maintain their reli­gious beliefs and practices than those who never attend college.

Matthieu Rouffet, professor of chemistry, said it’s his goal to show his students that knowledge is not at odds with Christian faith.

“Students are often making pure distinctions between science and faith,” he said. “As a professor, it’s my goal to show that faith and sci­ence go well together. Do students struggle with this? Yes — they talk about it all the time. But, if [this de­bate] becomes the main issue, that’s not the way to do faith.”

Faith and Community

When junior Ian Crane came out as gay during his freshman year at PLNU, he knew every­thing was changing.

“I grew up in a very intentional Christian home, thinking Chris­tianity was the center of the uni­verse,” he says. “All of a sudden, a lot of questions started popping up in my mind: the question of what it means to be a Christian, to live a moral life. How those things con­nect or don’t connect.”

Crane’s experience coming out, along with his studies at PLNU, caused him to question some of the preconceived notions he had about his Christian faith in high school.

“The basic idea of Christian­ity is love — I didn’t see anything I could do as wrong if the basic idea of the Bible is love. I’d be totally lying if I said I had all this figured out, but I can’t look at my entire understanding of the world and say I’m a Christian.”

While Crane does not count himself among them, some students have criticized the PLNU commu­nity for contributing to their loss of faith. As one anonymous poster on the “PLNU Confessions” Facebook page wrote, “Living in the Loma community played a big role in my becoming atheist.”

Still other students say the envi­ronment at PLNU has helped them experience a much more vibrant and lasting faith.

Senior Audrie Peveler said the PLNU and church community saved her during the times at PLNU when she felt depressed, alone or aban­doned by God.

“I’m so, so grateful for the com­munity and friends that have come alongside me,” she said. “They didn’t always know what was going on, but they were Jesus to me when I didn’t really want to be around him.”

PLNU President Bob Brower said he sees the vibrancy of PLNU’s faith community in acts of service, such as the recent Spring Break Build.

“That’s the difference of a com­munity with intentionality,” Brow­er said. “We’re not perfect; some­times we do stupid stuff. But we’re in the flow toward trying to live a life in service to others. My prayer and desire is that we reflect life liv­ing out Christ and service. Even in a time where faith is in doubt, it’s living out faith purposefully — I think that’s compelling.”

The Influence of Culture

Kasey Hartdegan has been do­ing all the right things. The PLNU junior grew up Catholic and went to church every Sunday, but doesn’t remember ever “believing” in God. She has immersed herself in the faith community at PLNU, going on a LoveWorks trip, having discussions with theology professors and atten­tively listening to chapel speakers.

“I have tried to get all I can,” she says. “I still don’t get it; I have my ups and downs. The concept of expe­riencing God through others — I’ve taken hold of that lately. But I have downs where it’s like, ‘this is dumb.’ But here, everyone is so supportive and encouraging. I’m scared to leave Loma and not have that anymore.”

According to Ron Benefiel, dean of the school of theology and Christian ministry, students’ feel­ings toward Christianity often re­flect their feelings toward systems in general.

“It’s really about how they feel about institutional religion,” he said. “It’s not so much a question of in­dividual spirituality, but the role of church in society.”

Benefiel says that young people often feel ostracized by the politici­zation of Christianity.

“It’s a new Republican-Evan­gelical alliance that causes them to say, ‘Wait a minute, I don’t buy that. With everything I believe in, this feels forced.’”

Young Christians often look to the media and popular culture to help define their beliefs, a practice of increasing concern to Christian communities that desire for their youth to be shaped by Biblical truth rather than secular culture. This can lead to a perceived “culture war” that causes Christian communities to increasingly ostracize themselves from and criticize their surround­ing culture. According to religion columnist Cathleen Falsani, who vis­ited PLNU for the annual Writer’s Symposium in February, this self-imposed cultural isolation prevents young Christians from experiencing a healthy and vibrant faith.

“I don’t believe there is secular and spiritual,” Falsani said at the symposium. “Everything is spiritu­al. As far as I know, there’s no place God isn’t.”

In a recent column for the O.C. Register, Falsani commented on the desire for Christians to claim secular artists as their own, as in the case of Marcus Mumford, the lead singer of Mumford & Sons. Some Christians expressed indignation when the fa­mously spiritually-minded songwrit­er refused to associate himself with the Christian church in a recent in­terview with Rolling Stone.

“I have my personal views about Jesus and who he was … I’ve kind of separated myself from the culture of Christianity,” Mumford said.

But Falsani defends Mumford, writing that labels don’t always tell the full story.

“He’s young, and faith is a jour­ney, not a destination,” she writes. “Cut Mumford some slack and thank him for his honesty.”

Back in his apartment, Kevin Ballard is sitting on his couch, de­scribing his recent transition from being a “militant atheist” to a more “agnostic atheist.”

“I can’t prove or disprove God, but I live my life as if he doesn’t ex­ist,” he says.

Nonetheless, Kevin says he has appreciated his time at PLNU and the ability to discuss his beliefs open­ly with others. In the psychology of religion class he is currently in, Kev­in has found some sympathetic ears, even though he calls himself a “lone defender” of his worldview.

“What we’re talking about in that class is exactly what I’m thinking,” he says. “Actually making people who will be more Christ-like and not just drones to the dogma of the church.”

by Jordan Bishop

contributor

To my fellow graduating seniors:

This Monday marks two weeks left in what is to be my last of eight semes­ters at PLNU. Naturally, it has been a complete blur. And to “reflect” on the past four years seems like a daunting task. As I considered what to “reflect” upon, it was difficult to know what to write about.

I could be serious and explain how deeply impactful these past four years have been on my faith, or how the education and the professors that I have encountered here have been more valuable that I honestly could have imagined. I could tell a story about a memory with friends, or make an inside joke. But so could we all, and that’s what I want to take the time to acknowledge.

All of our experiences here have been different and, as leave this place, each of us will carry something differ­ent with us. The conversations, classes and memories that I remember as PLNU will be different from every­one else’s. In a way, I enjoy thinking about this. My experience with PLNU is unique to me, just as yours is to you. Each and every one of us will carry a part of this place with us, but no two are the same. There is no common ex­perience, and yet, there is a common thread among our experiences.

It has been incredible to see the ways in which I have grown, and per­haps just as incredible to see how my friends have grown. We all have so much invested in this place and into each other. We have become, in many ways, the products of one another. Not to get too sappy, but just think about the ways in which your friends have molded you, and you them. Even the people you don’t know have no doubt influenced others who have then im­pacted you. Professors, students, staff: I dare say that all of us have played a role in creating who we are today.

I suppose my encouragement to all of us as we leave this place would sim­ply be to remember this as we go. The experiences that we have had here, and the ways that we have grown, are not tied to this campus. As we go, so will these memories. Yes, we will miss this place dearly, but the memories we have of this place will continue to meet us anew.

I hope the feeling would not be that we are abandoning this place, or one another, as we graduate. I, for one, am hopeful for what is next for us. Even in the midst of sadness and a sense of uncertainty, I am thankful for the past four years that I will be tak­ing with me. These memories, these things we think about when we think about PLNU are not simply distant recollections; they are now pieces of who we are. They are the events that we have experienced here that have shaped who we have become.

Our time here and what we carry from this place will continue to shape who we are, what we do and what we believe, no matter where that is. As we will very soon be speaking of our time at PLNU in the past tense, I am thankful for the person I have become because of this place and because of all of you. These memories that I now take with me will not only remind me of my past, but also continue to inform my future.