I typically don't consider blogs the best forum in which to share personal, touching experiences. But I'm going to make an exception. Be warned: this post is more for myself than for any of you. Feel free to delay reading until I post again.
I applied to Creighton accidentally. Literally. If I had possessed all of the facts of the law school application process when I started submitted applications, I would never have sent my information to Creighton. But as it turns out, I was accepted and offered a scholarship.
I was also accepted to and offered a scholarship at Akron, and the scholarship happened to be significantly more than what Crieghton was offering. Somehow, though, I forgot about that fact or didn't realize it or something, because when I was moving I came across the acceptance letter from Akron and felt like I had been punched in the stomach. How did I forgo what was essentially a full-tuition scholarship? I really couldn't understand my reasoning, and there was literally nothing I could do to change my situation.
But let's back up. On my acceptance letter, the Dean of the Law School at Creighton indicated that there are several students and faculty members from Utah. I thought that was random, and it was the first thing that made me actually consider going to Creighton. About a week later, I received a phone call from a professor, Collin Mangrum, at the law school to let me know that there are several LDS (Mormon) students at the school. He got me in touch with a graduating 3L, which was extremely helpful.
For various reasons that followed, I ended up deciding on Creighton. After that decision was made, I attended Accepted Students Day (I know this is redundant for a lot of you), where I met Professor Dallon, a former classmate of my dad's from BYU Law and the Bishop of one of the Young Single Adult wards in Omaha. My dad and I looked at about 14 apartments while we were in town. All of them were in one Singles ward except one that was in Bishop Dallon's ward. A long and unrelated decision-making process resulted in my choice to move into the apartment that happened to be in his ward. Even after seat deposits were paid to the school and security deposits to the apartment, I went through periods of doubt, wondering if I could and really should move to Nebraska. Invariably, during my most doubt-filled days, I would get a random call or voicemail from Professor Dallon, offering suggestions of places to live, people to talk to, or just checking up on me.
About a month ago, we received our Section assignments, and I happened to be placed in Professor Dallon's Torts class.
Now, here I am. I'm living a thousand miles away from everyone I know. I'm swamped with a level and load of schoolwork I've never before experienced. I feel like I'm barely keeping my head above water and it's only the second day. I feel like I'm neglecting Zipsie more than ever, and unfortunately this time there's no roommate or trusted friend available to give her some company.
But on Sunday one of the clerks in the ward asked if I had time this week to meet with a member of the Bishopric. We set up an appointment for tonight. After class, I was in the library studying and had to leave before finishing in order to make it to my appointment. I had a little bit of a negative attitude (it's hard for me to study at home, so I try and get everything done at the library), but I left. I got home, changed, and went to the church. I ended up having to wait for some other people to finish their appointments, which actually worked out, because I had brought my unfinished homework with me (which happened to be Torts...) I was able to read the chapter twice, which I was thrilled about. Bishop Dallon finished before his counselor, so that's who I met with.
Now this is the whole reason for this absurdly long journal entry of a post. In all my time at BYU, I never had an experience like this. The closest I got was having an Economics professor that was my Stake President, but that's not very significant since I had zero interaction with him in that capacity. Anyway, I met with the Bishop as sort of a get-to-know-you interview. At the end, he closed with a prayer.
Hearing a professor pray for me to succeed in school was more special than I can possibly put into words. It made me feel cared-for in such an individual way. It was an experience I wish everyone could enjoy.