Alpha Beta Dorcas.

Hey guys!
How are yall doing? I'm well.
I was just thinking about an interesting thing. Last night, I had to interview some of the sophomores who are applying for the LEAD program, part of the honors program at Belmont (the elite part). Anyway, my friends Emily, Daniel, and I were interviewing our friend LT. Which was more like a conversation because we all already know and love her. And she is having a hard time with a decision she is making. Anyway, we started talking about Emily flipping a coin in order to make the same decision, and then it moved to the fact that last year, Emily drew lots to see which immersion trip she should go on for spring break. And we were laughing about it, but it's such a cool thing.
We were talking about how they used to cast lots for everything. And Daniel said that it just came out of complete trust in the sovereignty of God.
And that just kind of blew my mind. I've been thinking about it a lot. (hehehe). But really, what if I had that much confidence in God's sovereignty?

Also, I am going to Texas this weekend! I have never been to that state. I am so excited to see my dear friend Emily's homeland and to spend time with Zeke, who I don't get to spend as much time with lately. Also I think I am going to try to finish The Two Towers. Because I just need to do that in order to be a more complete person.
Additionally, I am registered to vote.

Happy Tuesday Night, World!
Happy Birthday, Heidi! (my roommate)
Keep up the good work. Buy yourself a London Fog at your local coffee shop. Wear an entirely gray outfit. Have soup for lunch. Slip on your favorite socks. Gather that hair into a ponytail. Rest.
These are all things I have done today, and I recommend them.

Like a Stone in a Stream.

Well hello, all. Happy Fourth of July! I thought since I've had such a delightful day off, I'd update you all on my summer life.
If you don't know that I work at a kids camp, then you probably don't know me very well. I am a counselor to a smattering of beautiful 4th grade girls. My job is to help these girls know God and to help them become more like God. Also keeping them safe and helping them have a nice time is pretty important. This past Sunday, my childhood friends Amy and Gracie and I were sitting having breakfast. Amy works at camp, too, and we were talking about some questions her 2nd graders ask. Things that start off simple turn into an intense question-and-answer session full of dependence on the Holy Spirit to use your fumbling memory of Scripture to bring about understanding in 20 camper's hearts. Kids have a lot of questions about God. And significantly more about Heaven. Often, I don't know very many answers. I mean, I dare you to accurately explain the Trinity to a 9-year-old. It's hard! Anyway, Amy and I were talking about the dilemma, and we came to this conclusion: It's good to not know the answer sometimes.
I tweeted this the other day, but I'm pretty sure that we cannot understand or explain the Gospel enough for salvation to occur. It's not up to our comprehension or eloquence; it's entirely Christ's work. I feel like showing kids our ignorance about some issues within Christianity shows them that there's not some point they have to reach to be a Christian. They don't have to understand or learn enough. You don't have to get the Trinity before you can be a Christian. Because, as Christians, we will never fully understand God. If we could, He wouldn't be God, right? I mean, He'd just be something cool that we thought of. No, by nature of His being God, He has to be more than we can comprehend. So I think it's good to let our kids see us not knowing everything.
Anyway, other than that, I am taking an online class, and it's awful. And We have been playing a lot of this game called Quarriors. It is pretty nerdy and has a lot of dice. My campers are adorable and fun. I have been writing letters! One of the goals I set for myself at the beginning of the summer was to write letters, and tomorrow, I will have sent letters to eight different states. Can you believe it?
Additionally, I have planted a garden, and it may have been my best idea yet. I have some beautiful bell peppers growing. Really gorgeous.
Well, that's pretty much it. If any of you need prayer for anything, let me know. I'd love to pray for you.
I hope you've had a great Fourth!

A Thing or Two.

Hello, World.

I exist. Kind of. These last few weeks, I've just been thinking, "It will be so nice to exist again." Times have just been absolutely crazy around these Belmont parts. I have had enough work to fill the workload of at least 3 people, and I am tired. I won't go into the details of how late I've stayed up each night this week, but let's just say I was up til 5:30 three (3) nights last week, and one night I didn't go to sleep at all. Sorry. Wah wah wah.

Anyway, I am not writing to tell you about that. I am writing to tell you about how happy I am right now! I still have a bit more on my plate, but somehow I am just feeling so at peace at the moment. Which is funny because this has been a crazy day in a lot of different ways. So, I want to share some of the things that I am thankful for that are bringing me peace:

1. My friend Kristin, who is a mother of two and wife of one and is filled with absolutely ravishing wisdom, helped me. In a huge way. Which I know is vague, but I just have a lot on my plate, and she just started eating right alongside me. You guys don't know how much I love her. She has known me through a lot of different stages of my life and she still loves me. And she lets me love her kids. And she gets coffee with me, and she is one of the most marvelous things that God has put in my life.

2. Being a religion major. I had a study group with some of my religion major friends at Belmont tonight after having dinner at my religion professor's house, and I just feel so happy to be a part of the REL department. the professors are all so loving and care about each student, and the students are funny and fun and will order a pizza with you at ten o'clock at night. I am blessed to be a part. And I am glad that I got a new religion department shirt for absolute FREE.

3. I'm going home in a minute!! I am so excited to be with Kristin and my brother and my parents and Haley and Heather and all of my home friends! And I am excited to go to the beach, and see my dear friend Megan Brittney get married, and to throw her a party. Also I am excited to read the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I made a goal on my half birthday to read the whole series by the time I turn 20. I can do it!

On a slightly different note, something that is true about my God is that He is in control of suffering. Sometimes he uses suffering to work for His glory and for our good. Sometimes we endure trials of various kinds, and while sometimes that is from the devil, sometimes it is, in fact, God growing in us. People often disagree with this by saying that "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above" (James 1). But I think that being a Christian demands a redefinition of the word "good." I think there's something that people don't understand when they read verses like that one in James 1 and another that says "For those who love God, all things work together for good" (Romans 8:28). The problem is what does good mean?

Well, based on the life of Paul, and Peter, and pretty much every apostle, good doesn't mean comfortable, healthy, or even alive. Paul's life was certainly not comfortable or healthy (2 Corinthians 11), and most of the apostles ended up dead.

So if good doesn't mean any of the things we usually interpret it as, what does it mean? Well, we know that God is working for His own glory, and that He mercifully lets us be a part of that (Isaiah 43:25). So what were we created for? To glorify God. And I believe that the most fulfilled a person can feel is when they are doing what they were created to do. When you are being used in the way you were intended to be used, that is when you are happiest. So, as humans designed specifically to magnify the glory or the Lord, the ultimate good for us would be to glorify God.

So I believe that when the Lord promises our "good," He is not promising a life free of sickness or poverty, or even free of death (for God never promises us safety), but that He is promising us, if we will accept it, a life full of purpose. Mmmm. Rest in that.

And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one's deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.
1 Peter 1:17-19.

Opples & Banonos.

Things I am excited about:

1. The Maple Girls Bible Study beginning Thursday night. I am so excited about the girls who are coming and what we are doing. Praise Jesus for answering prayers.

2. I went to my first Mass with my friend Bea tonight. It was really cool. I can't believe I've gone almost twenty years without ever doing Mass. It was so cool to be a part.

3. I'm going to the Dominican Republic in March with my brother Logan. We are going to see the Littles, who are an amazing family pursuing the Lord and serving him in the DR. We would love it if you would pray for us. You don't know how much we would appreciate it. We even have a list if you need guidance in your prayers. Here she blows:

• The Little family as they continue to adjust to life in the Dominican and as they continue to develop relationships with the children they are teaching.
• Our ability to be an effective help and encouragement to the Littles in our time there.
• That we would walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which we are called, both leading up to this trip, on this trip, and in our lives in general.
• That we would have the humility to love in deed and love in truth.
• That this trip will be all and only about God’s glory.

4. Secret Church. Duh.

5. The fact that now, in my Greek class, my teacher has started just assigning Bible verses to translate for homework. It's so cool.

6. Apples. I am eating them like it's my job. They are just so delightful. What a glorious crunch!

7. Lastly I am excited about prayer. God answers it. Which just blows my mind. Prayer is such a beautiful privilege. It is such a delight. And something that I regularly realize anew is that I don't pray like I believe in the power of prayer, or even in the power of the Lord. But then I'll realize that however hopeless a case may seem, God is powerful enough to shift it entirely. Often I find myself in the face of an unsurmountable issue, for example abortion, and I feel so useless because I can't think of a thing to do to stop it. And then I realize that prayer is perhaps the most powerful thing I can do. So I am committing to spending more time in prayer, particularly for global and national issues. Boom.

Thanks. 

Nertz Is A Verb.

Today I was riding my scooter to work the desk at Maple, and my glasses kept fogging up because of the speed + the cold. Pretty dangerous. Also, we played Sardines last night for my beautiful friend Anneke's birthday. It was so intense and fun and then my friends and I played Nertz (or maybe Nerts) til all hours.

Morphed & Mindy.

Lately, I have been doing a really bad thing.

It is the thing of equating my future spouse with Jesus.

Note: I know that it is not guaranteed that I will have a spouse. I’m okay with that. I have, though, been feeling more and more called to marriage lately. Not like I need to get hitched tomorrow, but like God is preparing me to grow with and submit to the man of His choosing, and like I could use a strong spiritual leader in this life-o-mine. All that to say that for the sake of this blog post I am going to speak as though there is an actual husband in my future.

ANYWAY, this man that I will marry, well, he won’t be Jesus. It’s one of those things about humanity. He’s not going to be that.

And that is where my issue is.

My thinking has become so morphed, and just blatantly wrong. I’ve begun to think of him as Jesus.

I expect him to forgive me,

I expect him to accept me,

I expect him to make me feel valued,

I expect him to redeem me,

To lead me,

To make me grow,

To teach me,

To rebuke me,

To change me,

To fix me.

And while, yes, I want my future husband to forgive me, accept me, rebuke me, etc, I cannot expect that I will one day get married and suddenly all of these needs will be provided for.

I cannot expect another human being, no matter how much he may love me, to fix all of the issues that come together to be me.

I think I expect him to be some sort of priest. Like, when I’m married, I’ll be able to confess all my sins I’ve ever done to him and then I will be free from guilt, but the truth is that I am already free from guilt. The Lord has taken all my sin, and though I am an awful, awful person, he has forgiven me, and I no longer have to feel the weight of my guilt. I don’t know why I let myself forget that.

I know this must sound ridiculous, because explicitly stated, it just sounds dumb, but my hope for a partner has somehow gotten so deeply embedded in my psyche that this good gift has been perverted into a ridiculous expectation.

Here’s the truth:

A husband cannot forgive me,

A husband cannot accept me,

A husband cannot make me feel valued,

A husband cannot redeem me,

He can’t lead me,

He can’t make me grow,

He can’t teach me,

He can’t rebuke me,

He can’t change me,

He can’t fix me.

Not without Christ.

And that’s probably not a startling new insight, but I just needed to say it, I just needed to say it out loud (or rather, type it on my computer) that my thinking is broken. And it’s taking over.

This makes me think of a story my pastor told once.

One day his wife sat up in bed and just said, “Dave, you’re not Jesus.”

And it was a turning point in their marriage. She realized that she couldn’t expect him to save her, that he couldn’t be the greatest thing she lived for. He realized the same.

And I think about that all the time.

And this Advent, I don’t want to be focused on waiting for a human husband to fix me, but on waiting on the return of a divine Savior who has already fixed me, and at the same time is in the process of doing so, who knew my flaws and chose me anyway, who has forgiven me, accepted me, valued me, redeemed me, led me, grown me, taught me, rebuked me, changed me, fixed me.

I want to wait on that Guy.

Cheers.

Also, on an unrelated note, I made a Freaky Friday Soundtrack YouTube playlist tonight. Keepin it classy, keepin it real. Link to the Magic.

Ephemeral.

I got a lot of things on my brain.
Just none that want to be blogged.
Sorry I got all dicey on ya.
Apparently "archipelago" is pronounced ark-ih-pehl-ih-go. Talk about a paradigm shift.

College.

How To Fix Your Restaurant Guacamole.

Yesterday, my roommate and I went to a Mexican restaurant and ordered queso and guacamole. We had built the event up quite a bit in our minds and were looking forward to a delicious meal.
Bad news. The guac sucked.
It was creamy and fresh, but it savored strongly of onion powder, and lots of it. It had the most bitter taste. And aftertaste.
Just awful.
But this blog is not about the despair of the moment, but of the remedy!
After a few miserable bites, I grabbed the pepper, then the salt. A touch of pepper and a good deal of salt took care of all but the aftertaste. We mixed it around and it healed the poor pitiable dip a good deal.
But the aftertaste still screamed onion powder.
Then, after a moment of gathering our courage, we asked the waitress for some limes. This is where the true operation occurred. I squeezed both limes into the concoction, and soon the guacamole was as delightful as would it have been had I made it myself.
Dee-lightful.

Home Is Where The Hedge Is.

Well, howdy do.
I'm all moved in for my sophomore year of college, and we have finished decorating our wonderfully homey room. Not to brag or anything, but all the girls on our hallway have been coming in for inspiration. Anyway, I thought you all back home might enjoy some pictures.
Daddy, if you're reading this, show Momma. She'll want to see.

Emily and I chose to go with "I Love Lucy" style beds. And we love them. I think my favorite part is that they are close enough so that we can hold hands and pray together every night before we fall asleep.

This is my bed. Above it are a photo my talented friend Haley took, a series of pictures I drew of Abraham Lincoln in space, and my counselor of the week medal from camp.

I hung up a few encouraging bits of lovely next to my bed on my armoire. You can call it a wardrobe. Here is what is there: A drawing of me labeled "Betty", a picture of a camper, the gospel in 142 words essentially, courtesy of David Platt, my prayer list, a picture of my folks, and Ezekiel 3:6&7, which I am using as a sort of "mission statement" for this year.

This is my lovely picture wall. If you can't read the words on the left, they are something my pastor said today, "He will always do what He said He'll do, and that is making much of Himself in our lives." Beauty and truth.

Our media corner, if you will. You may have noticed that we have a VHS player. I take much pride in that.

And finally, our exceptionally cozy green chair perfectly paired with a pencil drawing of The Great Robert Zimmerman. Doesn't it look like a dream?

You are welcome anytime!

Fruition.

This summer was a blast and a half. I was so surrounded by such spiritually encouraging people. Spending every day with the other counselors on the Orange Team has focused my heart so much on Christ. Their devotion to glorifying God and loving well has made my heart strong.

This is Kristin. I will not see her for a year as she will be in Ireland.
My heart is sick, but she is doing God's things.

God has been moving and shaking this summer, and I'm having a hard time leaving it behind. I feel so used by God in the summer, and not so much during the school year. I'm preparing myself for it not to be that way this year. I need to be glorifying God every moment. That's my purpose, you know. Just ask my campers. One of my favorite things this summer was asking the room at large, "Why are we here?" and hearing, "TO GLORIFY GOD!" Good stuff.
Right now I'm getting my heart ready for a move. Here is something I read on my pal Mary Palmer's blog that I am quite considering for the coming moments:

Soon shall close the earthly mission,
Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days,
Hope soon change to glad fruition,
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.

It reminds me of my reason. Hallelujah.

Thanks for being my friend. Here's a special treat. Alaska Moose Head.

Rivers & Roads.

Have you ever noticed how much harder it is to be rational and friendly and kind when you are in pain? I don't want this to be a complaining time. Because, as we all know, complaining sucks. For everyone involved. But, that said, my stomach hurts. All the time. Every time I eat. This is a bad thing. And, most importantly, it is taking a growing effect on my personality. Ick. There is lots of laying down involved. I have even, dare I say it, been a bit snarky at times. (Can you imagine?)
What I'm saying is: sorry'boutit. But actually, I'm sorry about it.

FACT: One of my favorite things about Emily Snyder, one of my top dudes, is that when we are listening to music she has never heard before, she sings along. It gives me confidence in my soul when she does this. You're probably jealous of me just for knowing her.
So help me, she is the finest thing since packaged fruit.

Space. Space. Space. Space.

Camp starts Tuesday. Boom.
My mind is blown. Swearsies. I'm anxious about camp. Both anxious-nervous and anxious-excited. I used to think I was a really good counselor. Then I think my britches grew. Or something. (The idea is I'm not too big for them anymore.) I just am anxious about whether I'm worthy to be leading these kids. I just keep reminding myself that God's power is made perfect in weakness.
Also, good news, my bench is loaded. Alicia and Hannah are the other two counselors on my team, and they are going to be star players. I'm trying to ready myself for God to do big things in/through us. Want to be praying for our kids? And us? That'd be nice.
Our room is decorated like space, so that's obviously good news. Also, Abraham Lincoln is involved. We're planning on telling the kids he was the first President in space. Gotta give the people what they want.
Did you know they're shutting down NASA? Worst news I ever heard. Apparently we're closing up shop. What would John F. say? Or Buzz? Or Neil? Or Tom Hanks?
Anyway, that's about all I have to say.

"Prophet, Brother, Priest, and King!"
Those are things that Jesus is. Sufjan sings about it in "Get Real, Get Right." If you don't like The Age of Adz, you are wrong. It might be my favorite Sufjan album.

RIP NASA.

Beautiful and True.

This blog is going to be a list. It is a list of all the things I am excited about, in order of appearance.

1. Tomorrow I am going to do mini babysitting! I love babies, and I miss them, and it's been too long.
2. Tomorrow, I am going with my friends Emily, Zeke, and Blake to Atlanta, Georgia. I am excited just to be in the car and then to get there and to have good food. The best news is that once we get there, we are going to play cards! If I forget the cards, I will cry.
3. Saturday, those same kids (Emily, Blake, Zeke, and I) are going to Six Flags Over Georgia! Hooray! We are going to pack lunches and ride all the rides. Except maybe the Three Ninjas one. Ouch.
4. One week from tomorrow, I am going home! I miss my mom a bushel and a peck. And the rest of them, too. I think I will be talking a mile a minute the whole weekend.
5. A week from Sunday, my brother's getting baptized. I love baptisms. We just had some at Ethos (my church) last week, and it was straight from the Lord.
6. Then, the next Wednesday, I am coming home again. And this time, I'm bringing my cool friend Emily. You'd like her. She's not a moron.
7. It is going to be Easter. I am looking forward to this one as if Christ is actually going to rise April 24th. Good news though. He did it already. (He did it already, indeed!)

That is all I feel like listing today. Maybe I will tell you about my church. I love it. I fall in love with it more each time I go. My pastor is named Dave Clayton and he has a wife Sydney and a son. They are a family of champs.
This Sunday, we talked about God's wrath, which is cool because lots of people don't. We were in Revelation 14. Take a gander. My favorite thing he said was when we were talking about how people treat God's love, "We talk about God as though there's one characteristic of Him that's worth our praise." Then he said, "Every aspect of God is good."
Did you hear that? EVERY ASPECT OF GOD IS GOOD. Sorry that I'm yelling, but it's so true that it's hard to use my inside voice.
Something else lovely is this, "Their identity was no longer in their sin but in the God who cleansed them." That is right along the lines of all the guilt and redemption stuff I have been thinking about. It was just excellent.
I don't know. I'm not communicating it here as beautifully and as truly as Dave did, but after church, I was in awe at the truth that had been proclaimed. I love my church.
The last thing Dave did before dismissing us was to pray over us that we would feel our guilt this week and that God would show us now what our faults are.
It was beautiful. And true. My two favorites.

Go Forth With A Warrior Spirit.

Know what I'm gonna see in four days?

This.

And this.

And this.

And this.

And this.

And this.

And a whole bunch of other awesome.

Want to know the most excellent thing?

The other day, when I parked in the parking deck, written in chalk on the wall in front of me was, "Go forth with a warrior spirit."

It's all I've been thinking about since. And all I've been doing.
Also, we went swing dancing.

EXPLOSION.

Today I will tell you secrets. For extras.

1. I bought jeggings today. How's your mind? Blown?
2. I watch Grey's Anatomy. Don't tell anybody that one. It's really embarrassing.
3. I think Delaware doesn't exist. (Not a secret.)
4. I once had a fight with my best friend that was entirely made up of cheek-pinching.
5. I'm afraid to get old. My grandma told me not to.

I want to have some free reading.

Oh! By golly, I've forgotten to tell you some of the best news.
I've got a Bible study. Hooray!
It is small and lovely. It is made up of my friends Hillary, Rachel, and Emily, and also of me. Others are invited, but they don't usually come. Also, for the record, everyone is invited, I think.
We are reading the book of Radical by one Mr. David Platt.
He's mighty nifty. I like his view of the gospel.
I love these girls, and it has been super cool the last two weeks. It's only going to get  better from here, I tell you.

Have you read The Knowledge of the Holy by A.W. Tozer? (I always want to call him A Dubs Toes. Don't ask me why.) I want to read it. Tonight.
But alas, I will read about Buddhism.

Goodnight, one and all.

Upon My Return.

Can I tell you something?
I love, love, lovelovelove, school. And learning. And reading.
It just gives me joy straight to my bones.
That is why I am a teense giddy tonight. Classes start tomorrow! That is
                                                                                                                    beyond incredible to                                                                                                                         me.

Plus also, I am so excited about my classes this semester.
Ancient World. This class is going to be a really big challenge. I can already tell. But I have also heard so many good things about the professor and his teaching style. We're reading things by Plato and Socrates, and, oh, you know, the Iliad. I'm taking this one with my friend Emily, who I think is just a star.
World Religions. I'm excited about that one, too. I just know it's going to line up so well with what I want to do with my life. See, I'm gonna be in the world, and I'll be dealing with religion, so, you see the connection.
British Lit. Also known as my favorite thing in the world.
Theories of Writing. Most of you who read this probably already know how very very much I love to write. I'm so ready to hone and develop those skills.
Math. Eh. Not my strong suit. But I am so determined to do well in this class. It's not calculus, and I just feel so sure that it's going to be something I can wrap my head around. I am confident in me! (Thanks Julie Andrews.)

Also, may I tell you about my pleasure reading list I am determined to make time for this semester?
Why thank you.
1. The Catcher in the Rye. J.D. Salinger.
2. Of Mice and Men. John Steinbeck.
3. Radical. David Platt. (I know, everyone's doing it, right?)
4. Woody Allen: A Biography. Eric Lax.
This list is very exciting to me, I tell you.

More cool news: Today, in the mail, I got a subpoena! Bet that wasn't what you were expecting. Perhaps you remember this little incident, no? Well I do, and so does the state of Tennessee. I actually don't think it was technically a subpoena, but it referred to a subpoena that I might receive. That's right, internet, I may testify in court. Just exactly like Law & Order. I hope I do, honestly. People should not drive drunk. The girl nearly killed us.

It's been really good to be back. I've been getting to spend some excellent quality time with my school friends. I kind of forgot how much I like them. I'm really thankful for every one of them, and for how much like home these last few days have felt. My friends, I think, are beautiful. Here is something, though, that I am determined to do this semester: find a Bible study. I really need to have Jesus poured into me, and to pour Him into others. It gets dark without Him. If you want to, you can pray for me to find one. I'd love you forever and ever.

Well, I've got to get to bed. School in the morning!
Goodnight, and good luck.

P.S. Here is something I want you to think about: Leon. More on that later.

My Christmas Gift to the Internets.

I had my wisdom out this week. I'm a teense swollen.

I'm sore, and I keep throwing up.

But it's not so bad.

Merry Christmas!

(That is really a real me when I was a baby.)

I Laugh in the Face of Danger.

Hi there.

Well, something I've learned from camp training is that you're always supposed to begin these sort of things with saying that everybody's fine. Cause I guess when parents get a call from camp they think their child must be hurt. So, you begin each call home with, "Hi Mrs. Dillinger. This is Becca from camp. First, I want you to know that Johnny is fine..."

So, I will begin this blog with this:

Hi everyone that loves me. First of all, I'm fine. Everybody's doing great. We are all okay. Praise the Lord, right?

(Although, this would totally make for better writing if I saved the "Everybody's fine" for the end. You guys would be on the edge of your seats.)

And so we begin.

Last night, November 12th, 2010, started as any Friday night would. I spent a few hours at Barnes & Noble; I worked on homework for a while in my friend's room; some friends came over to watch a movie, although we ended up talking instead. Then, of course, we made a Taco Bell run.

Taco Bell runs are a blessed sacrament, particularly at one in the morning. This particular holy rite included:

1. Myself. You know me.

2. Peter Blankenship. Peter is a funny guy. He's always cracking jokes. Especially this one: Two fish are in a tank. One turns to the other and says, "Do you know how to drive this thing?" Classic Peter. (Also, if you think about it, he looks like Anne Frank.)

3. Rachel Wilder. Rachel is a hoot. She is the one who was a part of my first pumpkin carving/first pumpkin funeral.

4. Ezekiel Bandy. More commonly referred to as Zeke. Zeke has a mustache. He's a real class act. I actually don't know what that phrase means. But I'm sure he is one.

5. Jane Roommate. She's my roommate. She likes Dr. Dog.

Well. The five of us were practicing the holy rite of the late night Taco Bell run, and I hit my tire on the curb of the drive-thru and got a little worried about my tires. So Peter got out and looked at it, because all men know things about cars. I think it's in their blood. He said it was fine, but it felt weird, so I started driving extra carefully. This proved to be our saving grace (foreshadowing!).

As it was now two in the morning and our Taco Bell had not fully settled, we were still doing a little meandering. Peter wanted to show us his house, so we went with it.

Twenty minutes later, we're on the interstate, driving (carefully, you'll remember) and listening to slow jamz. Okay, that part about the slow jamz isn't true.

Regardless, we were driving, having loads of good clean college fun.

Suddenly, a car comes flying in front of us. Literally, feet in front of us. Now this, this is a dramatic moment. I braked and avoided a collision, but the car bounced off the wall and was coming at us again. I quickly swerved to the left lane, saving us from a crash, but not saving the side of my car from the flying debris.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

After getting us away from that car, my brain stopped working.

Uh... what?

Then, as if Hercules himself was in the back of the car, Peter took over like a hero. He said in the most calming voice possible, "Okay. It's okay. Becca, turn the music off and pull over. I'm calling 9-1-1."

I pulled the car to the shoulder and turned on my hazards. Peter was on the phone with the emergency operator. She was asking him so many questions, "Is the passenger bloody? Is anyone pinned?"

"I don't know, ma'am. I'm not really that close to the wreck. Do you want me to go look or something?"

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, aka in the driver's seat, the slow realization of what had just happened was dawning on me. Thoughts flashed through my mind like the blue lights did in my rearview mirror. We could have died. What if we had been a millisecond closer? I think I just witnessed someone die. How did we not get hit? And something between hyperventilation and crying erupted from me.

Then, somehow, all of my friends were hugging me. Sort of. I mean, as much as you can hug someone among all of the obstacles in a car. Regardless of the degree of hug, it was a very, very comforting moment. And there's the cheese for you.

So after our beautiful moment, we emerged from the car to check if the passenger was bloodied or pinned, and to make sure she was comfortable, which I always thought you weren't supposed to do. So, we walked. We walked along the side of I65 shaking, partially from the cold, and partially from the still dawning reality of our scrape with danger.

We found the car and talked to some guys who had seen the girl. The driver of the car had fled the scene. She'd pulled herself out of the car, said, "I can't be seen here," and she'd run. There were police cars checking the Sonic parking lot for any sign of her. I couldn't believe she was able to move, much less flee the scene of an accident.

So, we were almost hit by a fugitive. Okay.

The policeman "took my statement," I suppose. That just sounds like a strange phrase to be an actual part of my life. Regardless, he got me to tell him what happened. And then he got my address. And my phone number. And my social security number, which seemed like overkill, but that's his thing. Brentwood's finest. Gotta love 'em.

We all filed back into my car with Zeke driving this time. I felt like I'd filled my successful driving quota for the night. "If you want, we can go to my house and have some hot chocolate," Peter offered. I loved the idea of hot chocolate, and everyone needed to use the restroom, so off we went.

Once at Peter's house, we discovered that he didn't have a key. To his own house. Awesome.

Okay, so we'll just call his mom? No answer.

Let's knock on the front door. No answer.

Twenty-five or so minutes later, we were ready to give up. Peter murmured, "Let me try..." and disappeared behind the house.

We kept expecting him to reappear, and when he didn't, we plunged into the dark caverns of his backyard. And, sure enough, we found him, talking to his parents through a window.

We decided it might be nicer to talk inside the house and met at the front door.

Peter's mom is a wonderful, wonderful woman. She goes to the church I've been going to, and every time after church, we talk for like fifteen minutes. She is so sweet and so caring. I just want to keep her. She's a beaut. His step-dad is really excellent, too. And they are both amazing to let us barge into their house at three in the morning and drink their hot chocolate.

So we all calmed down over a good homey conversation and headed back to campus.

I do feel like I should say that in the amount of time that I was driving, I managed to save all of our lives, and in the comparatively small amount of time that Zeke was driving, he managed to kill a baby bunny and run a red light. Makes you think twice about who you want driving your car, right?

At five AM, I got a call from the officer letting me know they found the fugitive. She was fine, but drunk. Surprise! But seriously, praise Jesus we are alright. It was a close one, I tell ya.

We got back to our rooms around five thirty, and Jane and I ended the night by watching the sunrise.

How Long Will I Carry These Bones?

And I'm so far from not caring.

And I'm so far from not caring.

And I'm so far from not caring.

And I'm so far from not caring.

I miss:

wearing my hair in a ponytail.

walking barefoot.

rain.

my beautiful Youth for Jesus family.

children.

being outside of this country.

biting people.

silence being okay.

watching Gilmore Girls with my mom (and dad).

Grandmama's cornbread.

ribbons that lead to a "water bed" at Christmas.

babysitting.

Zaxby's.

not having bangs.

inside jokes I've had since kindergarten.

"Once upon a time, a goose drank wine, a monkey chewed tobacco on a street car line. The car broke. The monkey choked. And they all went to heaven on a billy goat."

Gulf Shores.

Target pizzas.

I'm thankful for now because of:

writing letters.

good music.

Sierra Mist in the caf.

gazebos and tulips and gardeners.

soteriology.

declaring a double major in religion and English with a writing emphasis and a minor in education.

Marcus the pizza guy.

Milky Way Midnights.

the picture of my mom next to my bed.

crochet.

writing and rambling.

the cold.

good movies.

nice friends.

the thing that I use to wash my dishes. It's so handy.

getting good at talking on the phone.

autumn.

my Oxford sweatshirt I stole from my mom.

And in the End.

Today. Steve died. It could have been yesterday, but regardless. Steve is dead.
The pumpkin, of course.
He grew mold and just sort of smushed up, just like Rachel's plague. It was terrifying.
We buried him unceremoniously in the hall trash can.
The End.