We arrive at this issue of The Flor-Ala with heavy hearts. Our campus’ beloved Dr. Lawrence J. Nelson has, as he would say, left the planet.

Since we learned of his diagnosis, the campus community has had the opportunity to watch the professor show his strength and willingness to fight.

Truly, I am glad he did. I’m glad that we all got a chance to say goodbye in one way or another, whether or not we realized it at the time.

My final conversation with Dr. Nelson took place in late November, outside of the classroom where he taught all of his classes.

He sat down on the bench with me outside of Bibb Graves room 314 and began asking me about my plans after graduation. He knew that I wanted to work in ministry in the future, so he asked me if I’d made any big decisions.

I told him I hadn’t, that I didn’t know where to start and was scared to death.

“Well, Tulip,” he said (Tulip was his nickname for me), “You don’t have to have your tickets until you get on the train.”

He meant there was no sense in worrying, that things would work out and all I had to do was pray and get ready for whatever may come.

I had known the guy for about a year and a half, and here he was talking to me like he was my mentor. In many ways, he was. I think many students on this campus felt the same way.

It wasn’t that he spent his time trying to involve himself in the lives of people — people just felt comfortable going to him.

Why was this? Probably because he was one of the kindest souls this university has ever seen.

Larry Nelson lived his life like it mattered. He acted as if he’d been forgiven of some great debt he could never pay and was eternally grateful, because that’s what he believed.

That’s where the “More Jesus, less Larry” slogan came from. If you attended a bible study or complimented him on anything, the phrase would inevitably pop up because it reflected how he viewed his faith.

In my eyes, the faith that he lived out made him the poster boy for authenticity. He knew he wasn’t perfect and would tell you that. He didn’t have to rely on his own confidence. He instead put his confidence in his faith.

It may be important to think upon the character and integrity his faith inspired.

Since Dr. Nelson’s passing, I’ve gone through the countless tests, papers and assignments he had graded for me. Each page features comments and markings that show a unique attention to detail, like each assignment was the most important.

In class, he addressed each and every student like he or she was a friend, making sure that everyone felt included. Outside of room 314, he was always willing to stop and chat, even if just for a moment.

It was this love for his work and for people that made him one of the greatest men that many of us will ever meet. Whether students met him in the classroom, in the fraternity house, in the sorority dorm, at a university function or just out and about on campus, everyone who knew the man had to love him by default. He was just that great.

While thinking of the impact he had on me and countless others, I’ve been wondering: Why couldn’t more people be like Dr. Nelson?

They’d have to value others more than themselves. They’d have to be willing to give up a little bit of their comfort and treat everyone fairly. They’d have to consider if they were living for things that truly mattered in the grand scheme of things. Ultimately, they’d have to be agents of love rather than agents of self.

It’s a tall order to expect college students to behave this way. In that case, is it too much to think that my fellow students and I could at least learn from Larry Nelson’s example?

As Dr. Nelson would say when ending a lecture with a cliffhanger, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see…”