Have you ever messed up royally, and then someone you hurt responded not how you deserved to be treated but rather with kindness and trust? I experienced this kind of unreasonable grace when I was a 16-year-old sophomore at Mount Pisgah Academy, and I can tell you it had a profound affect on me.

It was a great year for me. I was no longer a freshman; I had my driver's license, and I was fairly confident I knew most everything I needed to know about life! A new dean arrived that year, Bill Wolcott, and even though he was nice enough, I felt sorry for him, since I knew many of the boys would take advantage of his lack of experience. I was asked to be an RA (resident assistant) that year, and looked forward to the challenge.

I thought of myself as a cooperative student who really tried to be a good citizen. It is amazing, however, how quickly one can turn their life upside-down with a few poor choices and a substantial dose of rationalization. For me, my troubles began shortly after being asked by the faculty to also join the night-watch team—a group comprised mainly of seniors who liked to have a good time and were intent on being sure the girls' dorm was safe. I will never forget how nervous I was on my first night of training with the head night watchman. More than anything, I hoped we would not find any trouble. But sure enough, as we passed by the cafeteria that evening, my trainer said, "I think I hear someone in the cafe! Let's go check it out."

I had not heard anything, and I certainly did not want to catch anyone in the cafe. But he insisted we go in. He pulled out his knife and, with a quick twist, picked the lock. We crept around the kitchen until we were certain nobody was there. Boy was I relieved!

A funny thing though, the next night my trainer thought he heard someone in there again. So, he picked the lock, and soon we were inside. We walked all around the cafe, but again found no one. As we prepared to leave, he said to me, "Gary, one thing you will find unfair about being a night watchman is that you will never eat breakfast, even though you are paying for it."

I hadn't thought about that. He was right! There was no way I was going to get up in time for breakfast on our schedule. He then said, "To make up for the inequity, I sometimes fix a sandwich at night to hold me over until lunch. Gary, do you want a sandwich?" I said, "Yes," and before I knew it we were fixing a sandwich.

The next night we heard someone in the cafe again, and the next night as well. As a matter of fact, we heard someone in the cafe every night! I wish I could tell you we just ate a sandwich each time, but as the year progressed, we became bolder. One night, we figured out how to pick the lock on the walk-in refrigerator, which opened up a whole new world for us. We also discovered a way to get into the storeroom, and the baking business began. We learned we could supplement our income by selling leftovers to the guys in the dorm. We were so "smart," and after all, we were only getting what was "rightfully ours."

Somehow, it escaped us that perhaps the kitchen staff might notice food was missing. A faculty "plant" was put into place to catch the thieves. On the night of the stakeout, the head RA and one of his friends were on duty. (Pretty much all of the night-watch team were involved in our food equity program.) Sure enough, they got caught.

I found out about the bust the next morning, and immediately was confronted with the folly of my rationalization! How could I have been so stupid? I then saw myself as a common thief who had let down his friends, his parents, the faculty and my dean who had put so much confidence in me. Worst of all, I knew I had let my Lord down.

I sweated "bullets" all morning long as I waited to be summoned by the principal and the dean. I just knew I would need to pack my bags because I would be expelled with the others. But they never came for me that morning, so I went to my afternoon classes. All I could think about was what I would say when confronted about my involvement.

Finally, while sitting in geometry class, my dean knocked on the door and asked to remove me from class. I stood up, turned to my class, and said, "Good-bye." I followed him to his car and, without saying a word to me, he drove around the campus for a while and then up the hill to the boys' dorm where he stopped his car. It was then he spoke. "Gary, something terrible has happened. Someone I put full trust in has let me down. Last night we caught the head RA taking food. I feel a trust has been broken, and I can no longer have him as my head RA. Gary, I want you to take his place."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! I couldn't believe he didn't know I was involved in all this mess as well. I just kept saying to the dean, "You can trust our head RA; he is a great guy, and I know he won't let you down again!"

No matter how hard I tried, he was not going to change his mind. Finally, the guilt overwhelmed me, and I broke down and told him he couldn't use me as his head RA either, because I was involved, too. I will never forget the look he gave me. He was shocked for sure, but beyond that, I could see I had hurt and disappointed him greatly. He never said another word to me; he simply got out of his car and walked into his apartment. I went to my room to await my fate.

I felt sorry for my dean. Pretty much his whole dorm leadership team had blown it. Even though we had all expressed how sorry we were to him, we knew we all deserved to be shipped home. An emergency faculty meeting was called that night to discuss our future.

Afterward, the principal came to tell us the decision. He told us something amazing happened. Even though the faculty as a whole were ready to send us on our way, one person stood up and advocated for us—it was our dean. He argued that even though we messed up royally, he saw in us much potential and, if he only had the opportunity to work with us, he could help us get on the right path.

We were stunned! The one person who we had let down and hurt the most was the one arguing our case! In the end, they let us stay at school and even keep our jobs! We didn't deserve that kind of treatment from the dean, but I will tell you his graciousness had a profound affect on each of us. First, not one of us ever wanted to let him down again, and we didn't. Second, most of us in that group are active in our church today as laymen, and some are pastors and teachers.

1 John 2:1 says, "My little children, I am writing these things to you that you may not sin. And if anyone sins, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous" (NASB). What incredible grace our Savior has for us!

Thank you, Dean Wolcott, for modeling that kind of grace to me and my friends. It was truly a turning point in our lives.

Gary Thurber is the president of the Indiana Conference.