So, I found out recently, much to my relief, that there is room for me in the dorms! Because I am not only a transfer but also applied extremely late, there was barely space for me, but they managed to fit me in. I will be spending this semester in McManis Hall, which is one of the big dorms for soph, junior, and senior men and women (divided into "gender-specific wings"), located almost at the heart of campus, right on the Quad. This will be an unprecedented experience and I plan to take advantage of it...let's see, it will take me about 5 mins. to get to class from my dorm now, instead of the average 45-50 commuting to Seattle back at the U of W. So I guess this means I can sleep late.

I have two roommates, Susanna and Katie, both of whom are transfers also, have never lived in this area before, and are both from North Carolina. It's interesting, because at Wheaton apparently, the majority of students are from out of state and quite a lot are international. I think it was kind of Those In Charge to place me with fellow transfers, I always find it rather comforting to have comrades when I feel like I'm the "newbie" somewhere. :)
I just found out that our "triple" isn't actually a dorm room--they were so crunched for space that it is instead a lounge area. Which, now that I think about it, will likely be an advantage, because we may have more space than the standard rooms. I just hope we don't have that icky fluorescent lighting. :P Well, it will certainly be an adventure, and I am quite ready to move in! I have my new 5-subject notebooks and favorite Pilot pens, my yoga gear, electric kettle and coffee mugs, horse-head bookends, a big thick stack of my absolutely "essential" books to take (which is silly, since I never seem to have time for reading other than assigned work in college, but I feel a compulsory need to take them anyway), my Latin dictionaries, my pea coat, a new purple hat, and a pair of warm gray boots for when it gets cold...what else could I need? :) The lucky thing is, if I do happen to forget something (which I will) I can walk the mile and a half to my parents' house on Stoddard Ave, haha. I have it really easy, I can keep most of my winter clothes and extra books, etc, there...my roommates are having to plan ahead and bring what they'll need for a year, while I only really have to look ahead a few weeks. :)

I have a tendency to overload myself with commitments and plans, and I've already dropped a couple...I don't think I'll audit that poly-sci class after all this first semester, I'll just focus on adjusting to this whole semester system and taking 5 classes instead of the 3 I was used to at UW. I've always wished I could audit tons and tons of classes at school, because there is so much I feel very ignorant about (poly-sci, economics, and physics in particular :P) and I want to LEARN all this stuff that I don't have any elective credit left to use on...but then life happens and I never end up doing it. Maybe next semester...haha....

Also, I decided that right now is not the best time to try to learn Italian. I tried off and on for a couple weeks, instead of reviewing the Latin that I've already forgotten since spring, but I don't think I have time to spend on it now that school's about to begin. It's going on my To Do List, along with taking a martial art, learning calligraphy, attending a culinary school in Paris, writing haiku, exploring Italy, and starting my own used bookstore/coffeehouse. I like to be optimistic. :P

However, I did manage to learn ONE very useful conversation, which nevertheless I probably won't dare use if I visit Rome, because I will pronounce it atrociously, but here it is anyway:

"Cameriere, un altro caffe, per piacere." (Waiter, another coffee, please.)
"Subito, signorina." (At once, miss.)
"Grazie."

You know, I think I'd like to try it out after all. :)

Ciao!

Who Am I?

I don't know about you, but I find that whenever I'm especially stressed, especially thoughtful, (or, occasionally, struck by a brilliant idea ;) I have to write it down. I suppose you could call me a Compulsive Writer. Transposing my thoughts and feelings from head and heart to paper helps me "work through" them, and keeps me from feeling like an overbaked potato about to explode.

And no, don't worry--from the title, you might have feared I was about to ramble on about some existential crisis I am undergoing...but it's not that bad. Bear with me, the title (and my ramblings) have a point.

I was warned by some wise friends of mine who lived in Australia for a few years that, when you move to a new place far away from home, you will probably (unless you have a steel constitution, which I don't--I'm more like Jello sometimes) experience some degree of "culture shock." Aka, depression. At first, everything is different, and at first, that's kinda cool. It's rather like being on vacation. Change of scene, new people to meet, new restaurants to try, different accents perhaps, different local traditions and cultural experiences. But sooner or later (for me, it's turned out to be sooner), the newness starts to wear off and reality sets in. This isn't vacation, Callie; until some unknown point in the future, this is your new home.

I like to think that I am growing to be an adventurous person. Perhaps this is one of my self-delusions, like my belief that I'm taller than my dad, or my belief that I'm good at hiding what I feel (my family guffawed when I somehow mentioned that one day :P). I have come a long ways thankfully from the young girl who cried when she had to give a speech at a debate workshop, and I like to try "exotic" foods like frog and tripe, and I dream obsessively about traveling all over Europe. But sometimes, I don't do well with change.

Of course, we had a bit of a rough welcome to the area, in some respects...non-working appliances, flooding, bug infestations, an ER visit. And now I find out that I have a growth of some kind (ick) on my thyroid gland in my neck, which could explain why I've been so tired and lethargic for weeks. Or, they warned me, it could be "cold"--non-active--and potentially turning into cancer, in which case I'll have to have surgery to remove it. It's not a dangerous surgery, a pretty easy process actually I'm told, but still no one relishes the thought of having her neck cut into.

I know it's nothing to worry about really, but I'm a worrier by nature, unfortunately--I know this all too well about myself. I'm starting to think it may be my particular "thorn in the flesh." :P I know also that all of these minor (and more major) mishaps are not really all that big of a deal in the Big Picture.
But what's been hardest on me since I moved is not the physical problems or the household inconveniences, it's been the ache of homesickness. It's been growing in intensity the last few weeks, like that tight feeling in the back of your throat and behind your eyes when you just know you're going to cry, and today I sort of just, melted. No need to go into the pathetic details, but I honestly just found myself sad and lonely and upset and confused and unreal. Numb, and rather hollow.

Well, thankfully God didn't let me stay there. He brought several things to my mind and eyes today that have helped me get through.

I'm reading through the Psalms right now, and the one for today was Psalm 77. In it the psalmist, Asaph, speaks of how he has "cried out to God" ceaselessly, yet his soul has refused to be comforted.
As I read it, I felt I could identify with so much.

"I remembered God, and was troubled; I complained, and my spirit was overwhelmed." (I've certainly been doing my share of complaining lately, oops.)

"I have considered the days of old, the years of ancient times. I call to remembrance my song in the night; I meditate within my heart." (I've been thinking a lot about happy memories in the past, for sure, and dwelling on what I miss.)

Then he questions God: "Will the Lord cast off forever? And will He be favorable no more? Has His mercy ceased forever? Has His promise failed forevermore?" (Even though I know that the answer to all of these questions is "No," sometimes it's tempting to feel like you're alone with your doubts. I've been there for sure. )

But here's the crucial turning point, and my lesson for the day:

"And I said, 'This is my anguish; But I will remember the years of the right hand of the Most High.' I will remember the works of the LORD...I will also meditate on all Your work, and talk of Your deeds....Who is so great a God as our God? You are the God who does wonders."

I'm not remotely to the point where I need to be in my ability to praise and worship my God in all my circumstances. I can't yet echo with Paul, "I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content." But this passage really struck me, and showed me a problem in my heart. Maybe these circumstances aren't exactly what I would choose, if I could plan out my life (scary thought, though, really)...but it's where He has me right now.
Rather than dwelling on my own loneliness and anxiety and what I liked better about where I was, I will try to remember Who He is, and what He has done for me, and what He has promised to do.

A dear family friend of mine posted this in a sidebar on her Facebook page, actually, and I noticed it for the first time today:

"Choose Joy each day as an act of deliberate worship--He is always worthy--despite circumstances."

Choose Joy.
Why should I?
Because He is always worthy.
Despite circumstances, He is--always--worthy.

And lastly, there's a poem written by Dietrich Bonhoeffer that I recently came across which he wrote after being in prison, and it came to mind again today. I can't remotely echo the first part of the poem, but I could completely identify with the last half, which really struck me, stuck with me, and encouraged me. I think that it's a wonderful reminder to any Christian, and I hope it will encourage you all as well.

Who Am I?

Who am I? They often tell me

I stepped from my cell's confinement

calmly, cheerfully, firmly,

like a squire from his country house.

Who am I? They often tell me

I used to speak to my warders

freely and friendly and clearly,

as though it were mine to command.

Who am I? They also tell me

I bore the days of misfortune

equably, smilingly, proudly,

like one accustomed to win.

Am I then really that which other men tell of?

Or am I only what I myself know of myself?

Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,

Struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing my throat,

yearning for colours, for flowers, for the voices of birds,

thirsting for words of kindness, for neighbourliness,

tossing in expectation of great events,

powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,

weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,

faint, and ready to say farewell to it all.

Who am I? This or the other?

Am I one person today and tomorrow another?

Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,

and before myself a contemptible woebegone weakling?

Or is something within me still like a beaten army

fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.

Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am Thine!

Something within me is, often, rather like a beaten army fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved. That phrase really struck me, it's perfectly apt. But the main thing to notice is the word already--through Christ, the victory in our lives has already been achieved.

Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

(1 Cor 15:57)

And no, as Asaph reminded himself, His mercy hasn't "ceased forever." He is Faithful.

Through the LORD's mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness. "The LORD is my portion," says my soul,
"Therefore I hope in Him."

(Lam. 3:22-24)

And He is compassionate.

We do not have a High Priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses. (Heb. 4:15)

Rather:

For He knows our frame, He remembers that we are but dust. (Psalm 103:14)

And He has promised that though weeping may endure for a night, joy cometh in the morning.

(Psalm 30:5)

Who am I? Sometimes we all need a reminder.

God help me remember who I am and Who I serve.