Robert Jensen

A few months ago I was blessed with an opportunity to shoot my first wedding. The bride and groom are two of my favorite staff members that served in the high school ministry at GCC. Adam, the groom, was the leader of my Malawi STM and Shannon, his bride, was a huge blessing to the girls in our ministry and overall, a blast to be around. As man and wife, they’ve moved to Hickory, North Carolina, to serve in the youth ministry at Harvest Bible Chapel. They are greatly missed and undoubtedly worthy of a visit. Enjoy.

With the close of this post, I’d like to announce the end of “Three:Sixteen Productions.” The photos will eventually be moved onto this site and my photography/videography business will [finally] be extinguished. I’m still shooting, but will keep everything under my name and nix the “branding” this hobby never deserved. (: College is here, and I can’t afford to spread myself too thin. Thanks for the encouragement, stick around!

I remember walking towards school with my fancy “rolling backpack” clicking at each crack in the sidewalk. I remember climbing up the playground steps, walking across the bridge, and taking the leap of faith to grasp the first monkey bar. I remember walking into third grade, room #44, and having to introduce myself to the class and teacher… it was my first day in a “real school” and I was terrified. Third grade was the only year I had ever experienced a legitimate school environment. That single year of elementary learning was all I had as I lay in bed on August 23rd, 2010 t’was the night before my first day at Santa Clarita Christian School, and my mind was hard at work, sketching and outlining “the perfect first day.” The fan directly above my bed was whirling violently as my fish tank gurgled, alarming me of its low water level. My sheets were covering my face as I squinted and visibly attempted to fit bits and pieces of my third grade year into what I imagined SCCS to be. Having spent freshman, sophomore, and junior year as a home schooler, I honestly had no clue what to expect. My vigorous attempts at constructing a mental picture of my classes, teachers, and classmates failed and the LAST thing I could do was tell myself to fall asleep.

Well, I finally closed my eyes, and when I awoke, I was sitting at my computer screen typing this reflection. On the dashboard, a countdown clock that reads, “22 school days until graduation!” Are you kidding me?

Obviously, I didn’t sleep through my senior year of high school. If I did, I would have missed out on relationships with people that go oceans deeper than a “hello” and “goodbye.” I would not have learned the importance of understanding Christian truths through a secular book dripping with humanism. I wouldn’t have the slightest idea where to begin writing a feature story, or what to do with a Bildungsroman. I wouldn’t be able to touch an AP class with a 10-foot pole, or be selected as a homecoming prince a mere two months after entering the social jungle of a small school. With enough benefits, blessings, memories, laughs, friendships, and quotes to fill several volumes of an encyclopedia, it’s hard to condense my year into a report that will make sense.

I entered a school with a graduating class of 38, with a large majority of them having been together for several years. I expected it to be rough penetrating that bond of friends and attempting to find some of my own. What I did NOT expect was to be bombarded with genuine, caring people. Students and teachers I had never even met were sending me friend requests on Facebook before school even started. New friends would bring me lunches just to get to know the “new kid.” A teacher even printed out a stack of information on the career I was preparing for and went through and highlighted important pieces of information. THESE are the things that bring tears of joy to my face as I reflect on them.

It amazes me when I hear certain students say that they don’t like SCCS. As I write this paper, I literally spent 20 minutes trying find something that I didn’t like about this school. I didn’t come up with anything. The teachers could and should be college-level professors; the students were a huge part of my spiritual growth and readiness for college and adulthood; the classes did everything possible to not only teach me but allow me to understand the question of “why;” the sports teams were centered around acting in a way that would not taint our testimonies of desired holiness; and the administration team did everything humanly possible to mold me and shape me into a disciplined man of God.

If I were to leave SCCS with a single reflection or memory, I would have to immediately say that it would have to be the first time I met Mr. Clark. He shook my hand, looked at me square in the eyes, and told me, “Robert, let’s grow in Christ this year.” That single phrase was the key to my entire year. I wrote it on a Post-It with Ephesians 5:15-16 and put it in my locker (which later made its way into my trunk since I, being the new kid, didn’t know the “cool” thing to do was use your trunk) to use it as a constant reminder of my purpose at SCCS and in the world. Because of him, I truly did grow as a committed Christian, which, if anything at all from this year,… is what will matter the most in eternity. Mr. Clark’s title as the Student Activities Director, in my mind, immediately became Spiritually Awesome Dude. As the year progressed, and my relationship with Mr. Clark, as well as the other teachers, grew, I saw him as someone who spent more time with me than my teachers, and truly invested in my life. The only aspect of [my life] that is represented in the school’s name: CHRISTIAN. He was truly the only male faculty I saw during the day, and really the representation of SCCS’s male leadership.

I am so thankful to God for placing me at SCCS for my senior year and am beyond excited to continue growing my SCCS friendships next year at The Master’s College. I owe much of my readiness, both spiritually as well as academically, to the students and staff of Santa Clarita Christian School. I am blessed and grateful for each interaction, each conversation, each laugh, and each prayer. I know for a fact that I will remember a lot more about this year than I did my third grade year with my rolling backpack and monkey bars.