By Frances George

We are in the eighth week of the semester of my daughter’s senior year at Baylor. I am beginning to see the end of this amazing multi-daughter, multi-degree, multi-joy-filled journey. I tell my daughter to embrace the journey… every single minute of it. And she has.

For those of you reading my blog for the first time, I have written almost monthly for the past eight or nine years (I lose track) about what I and my readers have come to know as “The Baylor Difference.”

I have written about Baylor’s Homecoming and the longest continuously running homecoming parade in the nation… and I would know. I was in it last year when my husband and I were named Baylor Parents of the Year, an honor that is a rock of remembrance in my life. However, call time for the parade was 4:30 a.m.! Yes, the parade is that long, and there are that many cars and floats and the fabulous Golden Wave band. It takes a long time to line up and meander for over an hour through downtown Waco and through campus! But it is worth every early minute!

I’ve blogged about distance from home and how 1,200 miles really does feel right around the corner because Baylor is family for my daughter. I’ve blogged about how Greek life at Baylor is really leadership training for life, and I’ve blogged about that last month of college when my first Baylor daughter wrote, “I can’t believe it’s almost over. It went too fast.” I likened Mary Scott’s Baylor experience to Pachelbel’s “Canon in D Major” with a single string becoming a full symphony and its denouement becoming the single string, yet with a beautifully repeated musical phrase throughout, that phrase being the thread of Christ, permeating her experience from start to finish…

But this month, I have witnessed a side of Baylor I have not seen before, and it once again, demonstrates The Baylor Difference.

Last month, one of my oldest and dearest friends lost her daughter after a three-day illness where an infection took her life. She was 21. She was senior at UNC Chapel Hill, my alma mater. She was a Morehead Scholar, arguably the most prestigious collegiate scholarship in the entire state and among the most sought after in the nation. But suddenly, she was gone. And she was a friend of my Baylor senior, Catherine.

Not wanting to tell Catherine this news over the phone late at night, I DM’d a close friend of Catherine’s, a young man with whom I knew I could share this information and he would be an emotional rock for my daughter when she heard from me. He was at the ready, as I knew he would be, a strong brother in Christ and treasured friend, as are so many of the men at Baylor. I often have said, “I have yet to meet a young man at Baylor that I would ask the girls to not bring home to North Carolina.” The caliber of men and their character on this campus is second to none. And this young man did not disappoint. He was there when he was needed most.

But there was more. Catherine is involved in Vertical Ministries on campus, a campus-wide organization that meets every Monday evening, with typically 1,000 students in attendance to learn what it means to walk with Christ in the 21st century in college and beyond; amazing speakers, amazing music, amazing fellowship. I have come to know the executive director through the years, and so I texted Dale and asked him to pray. That night at Vertical, the night of Wynn’s funeral in Raleigh, 1,200 miles away at a place Wynn never visited, a place that had never heard her name… Vertical prayed for Wynn’s family. Dale Wallace is a Baylor graduate. I was not surprised that he prayed for this family. That’s what the Baylor family does.

And finally, Catherine’s church in Waco, (a church that with just a little persuasion, could make me move to Waco, that’s how incredible this church is!), also prayed for Wynn’s family and those who would be impacted by Wynn’s life and death and her love for Jesus. 1,200 miles away, the leadership of the body of Christ in Waco rose up and knelt down on behalf of my youngest daughter’s friend’s family. The senior pastor, John Durham, is a Baylor graduate. That is the type of person who graduates from Baylor.

Why do I write this? Because in joy and in sorrow, in the best of times and the most difficult ones, Baylor stands in the gap and shines in a world that seems to have lost its way. I knew this would be a difficult week for my daughter, but because of this place called Baylor, I knew she would be supported by friends and faculty, ministry leaders and her Waco church. I knew she would be stronger and even more grounded because of all who surrounded her in the valley. The Baylor difference this month has shown me that the core of Baylor transcends time and transcends campus borders and is still in play long after the four years that comprise college. Baylor understands and sees the difference one university can make in the present and into eternity. Baylor intentionally takes the long view and models it for their students. Baylor is a way of life.

The influence of Baylor University goes beyond the classroom, beyond the winding paths that crisscross campus.

The perspective Baylor gives is deeper and more profound than that which the world offers. Baylor is a verb. It steps up. It steps in to help. It makes a difference. I am grateful for Baylor friendships and for Baylor faculty. I am grateful for ministries and those who minister on and off campus. I am grateful in the joy. I am grateful in the sorrow. Our students are better prepared for life because of their time at Baylor.

All those spires you see on campus…they are intentionally present and point upward for a reason. They pointed my daughter upward. “This is not all there is” is what Baylor says and what Baylor does. The “this” matters, and Baylor makes it count. And in all the saying and in all the doing, in all the teaching and in all the training, Baylor makes it count for eternity.

And that’s the Baylor difference.