I don't remember ever visiting the guidance counselor in my small high school. Back then it was optional. She was available for questions about the SATs or what to do after graduation, but I don't think I ever spent any time seeking her advice. After graduation I heard that in college, everyone is assigned their own personal adviser. Now that I was a little fish in a huge pond, I couldn't wait to meet mine. Finally, someone who could help me make sense of all the class offerings and conflicting schedules. Someone who could help me feel a little more at home in this new place. With a title like adviser, I guess I had pretty high expectations.

I knocked on Professor Wilson's door at our set appointment time, feeling nervous and excited. The nerves were nothing new. Everything those first few weeks of college was a cause for anxiety. It was all so different from high school; so overwhelming. Surely my "adviser" could help me calm down and find my place on campus.

He invited me in. I'll never forget him. He had a warm smile, glasses and a shock of white hair. I did wonder why they had paired me — a possible art or business major — with an anthropology professor. But I figured, this is college, they must know what they're doing.

We started talking. He walked me through the core requirements and suggested I get started on those right away. "You'll have plenty of time for electives later," he advised. I was a little disappointed that I'd be spending most of my first year on the basics, but saw the wisdom in getting the "must-dos" out of the way while I figured out what I was going to major in. No sense spending time on electives that might not count toward graduation.

Somewhere in the midst of our first, brief conversation, he stopped mid-sentence to feed a squirrel outside his window. He actually opened the glass and passed out some squirrel food.

While he was entertaining the wildlife, I had a chance to look around. There were dark wooden African sculptures on his bookshelves and above my head, next to a stuffed black and white monkey, hung the skin of what had obviously been a gigantic and terrifying snake. I'm no expert but I'd guess it was a python.

It didn't take long to realize my expectations for this relationship were too high. Here was a fascinating professor with interests and expertise worlds apart from anything I had ever envisioned myself doing. He was kind to me and helped me figure out my first semester classes. And that's really all I should have expected. But I wanted more than the required sign-off on my schedule. I wanted a professor who would get to know me and help me cast a vision for my time in college and my life beyond it.

Though professor Wilson likely would have done his best to fill that role for me (I later learned he was well-known for his ongoing friendships with thousands of his former students), I left his office thinking I'd have to find another adviser.

I suspect a lot of my classmates found they were similarly mismatched with their advisers. It turns out that's common since student/professor pairings are randomly assigned. The challenge, as you get more clarity about where you'll focus your studies, is to seek out a professor who can fill the need for input and wise counsel. I needed a mentor because I was far away from home. I was new to town with no friends, no church and no family connections. Having some non-peer counsel was really important to my success in school and I knew it.

Proverbs 13:20 says, "He who walks with the wise grows wise, but a companion of fools suffers harm." I'm not saying all 17 year olds are fools, but I knew that my peer group, though rich in friendship, had yet to develop much wisdom. And I needed wisdom. Beyond choosing classes there were bigger questions to answer: What major to seek; what extra curricular activities to pursue; which semesters off campus were worthwhile and how to maintain a strong spiritual life just to name a few. I wasn't even convinced I was at the right college.

My solution: look for other profs where the connection was stronger. Even if my official adviser wasn't the confidant I had hoped for, there were a lot of other professors on campus. I searched throughout my freshman and sophomore years in the departments of English, Art, History, Religion and Political Science. My junior year I was still undecided about my major but leaning toward Art. Still I had some business courses to finish and I signed up for "Principles of Business Management." It was there, in the most unlikely of places that I met Dr. Simpson.

He taught in the school of business but he was no buttoned-down accountant. He had served as an officer in the Navy, ran marathons, earned his M.B.A. and Ed.D., and above all, had a vibrant faith. He stood out for his ability to integrate faith and learning. Like other professors at my Christian school, he opened his classes with devotions, but the influence of his faith didn't stop there. It was woven into the fabric of what he taught and the way he lived.

I took advantage of his office hours, dropping by with questions about the class. We just clicked. Here was the mentor I had been looking for since I arrived on campus. He took the time to get to know me — my skills and the quirks of my personality — so I trusted his advice. When I told him I was planning to get my masters degree right after graduation he suggested I get a job first. "Do something, even if it's just flipping burgers. The life experience will make graduate school a lot more rewarding and productive." Coming from anyone else, that advice would have made me cringe. But from him it was brilliant.

I asked him to be my adviser pretty early on. He said no. I was really disappointed. Here was the professor I had been looking for going on two years and he was too busy with other students to add me to his list of advisees. But I didn't give up. I kept visiting his office, even after the management course had ended. I figured unofficial advice I trusted was still good advice.

As you tackle college, remember, you can expect your assigned adviser will make sure you take the classes you need to get the diploma you want. But if you're persistent, and patient, it's possible to find a mentor who can also give you the counsel you need. I didn't give up. A semester later, when I asked Professor Simpson again to be my adviser, he said yes. I graduated with the help of a teacher who not only signed off on my classes, but also encouraged me to pursue my dreams.