Joy Surprise

I'm settled in and smiling. The room is roomy, the roommates intelligent. One of them has a 4.0, and it's not me. One's pre-med, one's doing her nursing homework while working at the library, and I haven't been late to class yet. Well, I was, but the professor didn't show up, so it was okay. At least for me.

My desk is already a mess: postcards from Singapore, a cinnamon bark box filled with céntimos, my vitamins (which I haven't taken in a week and a half), a parking ticket (oh, strife!), my new water bottle, some financial aid letters that are perhaps significant, the key to Sol Duc employee dorm #4, a list of things to do, and a list of things to buy. And a bouncey, bouncey ball.

Today I had one class that actually occurred. The professor's articulate English reached into parts of my brain that haven't been used in quite that way in about… 8 months. In all seriousness, I felt the ache of nerves reconnecting. A good kind of pain, but it made my eyes droop. I have downloaded the audio of Beowulf, so I can start my homework.

There's so little chaos here. I had to tell you about my desk, because that's the messiest spot in the suite. This is different than Sol Duc. I'm practically on community overload right now, but I still haven't gotten sick of the smiles. Have you noticed that if you smile at someone, they'll smile at you, which makes you happier? And it doesn't smell like sulphur here.

And this is different than a year ago. The things I was confused about have been made clear. I am full of hope, not dread. And I am not ashamed.

I have some places to add to my list of places I've slept. We'll say that Sol Duc Room #4 was #60. So:

61. Sol Duc Room #2 on the night that there was a drinking game going on in my own room.
62. Tom and Karlene's house.
63. Nate and Hannah's.
64. One and a half (actually, half and a one) nights in Ft. Collins.
65. Johnny and Christina's.
66. Four nights at the hotel in Minneapolis, where all of Ryan's family stayed for his sister's wedding.

67. Alumni 123. The best suite ever. That's what I've decided. And I will do everything in my power to make it so. Where will I get that power? The joy of the Lord is my strength.

Plus, I have a boyfriend who prays for me.

Packing

I have to start packing, but I know that all my belongings will play one more measure in the rhythm of my life here. So I started by taking down the maps I had masking-taped all around my bunk. The London Tube map, the plan of Sevilla, the print-off of Oxford, the map of our hike through the Pueblos Blancos, the directions to our bungalow in Lisboa, the wrinkled map of attractions in Rome. And more: Mt. Rainier and an accompanying map of Southeast Asia.

I'm trying to find one of those Olympic National Park maps that I've seen around so I can add it to my collection before I pack them all in my "to college" pile. I guess that's the pile that I belong in. But I'm not there yet.

This is my last week. It got off to a great start with a sunny day at the coast and a long walk on the beach with my boyfriend. When we got home, Rachel, my best friend from Spain, was napping on my bed. She had fallen asleep while looking at my maps. While sh was here, we hiked like there was no tomorrow, just like we did last semester, and we talked it all out. Everything from our first memories together to our future plans. I have a lot of hope. And I want to share that hope with the people here. I was able to do that in a couple conversations this week. This sulphury soil is slowly softening.

And I must leave.

When I'm finally ready to minister.

Here goes culture shock all over again.

I'm trying to imagine what life is like at Trinity. It's hard to think about, so I usually just don't, but I know I must get mentally prepared. Imagine a place with three rooms for four people instead of one room for six. Imagine not getting toe fungus in the shower. Imagine a grid of roads and traffic everywhere. Imagine doing homework. Imagine having my own designated place in the closet and places in the closet where I am not allowed to sprawl my stuff. Imagine seeing the carpet.

At Trinity, there will be a few hours in the wee of every morning when every girl will be in a girls bed in a girls room on a girls hall and every boy will be in a boys bed in boys room on a boys hall. In fact, even during the day, boys will be afraid of interacting with girls too much, as in, being friendly.

At Trinity, there is a legal drinking age. And I am still twenty. I am twenty? How old is twenty? What kind of jokes are funny to a twenty-year-old Christian girl? What is a twenty-year-old Christian girl supposed to do? What am I not allowed to do? Who am I allowed to spend my time with?

Who am I?

I am a world traveler. But I can still only be in one place at a time.

I am a Christian minister. But I still need to be ministered to.

I am an outdoorswoman. But I still miss my desk.

I am somebody's darling. But I still have just one comfort: that I belong to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.

And that Savior will always be with me. He's already in my "to college" pile. And my "Ft. Collins" pile, and my "Goodwill" pile. He's even in my "not sure" pile, although he's the one thing I'm absolutely sure of.

Alright. I have to keep packing.