A New Post for a New Phase!

It's approaching three months since last I wrote, and, wow, there are some really new things afoot in my life. Part of the reason that I've been 'quiet' for so long (aside from my habit of infrequent blogging) is that I didn't really know how several possibilities were going to play out. It seemed good to me to wait quietly rather than to announce things that were uncertain. But we're breaking new ground now, so here's my latest news:

First, I finished my work for McM U and moved away from Abilene, TX. I left my well-loved, quasi-functioning car in Ft. Worth, rented a more reliable car, and drove to my parents' house in Atlanta. I was east of Birmingham when I allowed myself to think about the wonderful people who were becoming farther away with every passing minute. I saw their faces, heard their voices, felt their embraces. I knew I wouldn't turn around and at the same time wondered that I didn't. I'd managed to stay dry-eyed until then. (My eyes aren't especially dry right now either!) My poor cat made the trip, too. She did all her crying in the first hour or two. :) But she's adjusting.

I'm visiting my family in Atlanta for a couple of weeks. It's nice to be home for a while - connecting with old friends, hanging out with the family, walking in my favorite park, feeling the pulse of the city again (without necessarily being part of the chaos). But this is just the in-between phase...

My next stop is Oxford, England, where I will begin an MPhil in Eastern Christian Studies in October! I'm in Wolfson College, located in North Oxford on the banks of the River Cherwell. (Anyone as nerdy as I am can take a virtual tour!) I hope to complete a DPhil at Oxford as well. If all goes as I'd like, I'll be in the UK for 5-6 years.

So, that's the big, waiting-with-bated-breath news. Last fall, I applied for a number of graduate programs, most of them PhD's in the States, and heard "No" or "Maybe, but probably not" all spring. All that time, the one I really wanted - this program at Oxford - was sort of MIA. That is, until June 1st, when I found out I'd been accepted. (I'd about given up hope! I was trying to psych myself up for another round of applications! Ugh, the idea still makes me shudder.) Then I had to figure out how to pay for my degree - it's not cheap and I'm not independently wealthy! I talked to some of my mentors at ACU. I waited for two and a half months. A little less than a month ago, ACU offered to help me fund my degree(s) if I'd come back to teach there for (at least) an equal amount of time. "Yes, I'm in!!" (A friend of mine called this "indentured servitude." Personally, I think it's a sweet deal!)

And, so, when my sojourn in the UK is over, I plan to return to Abilene to teach undergraduate and graduate theology courses at ACU. I want to focus my studies and research on historical theology (which engages the development of Christian doctrines throughout history). I'm not exactly sure what topics I'll focus on, but I'm very interested in Christology, ecclesiology, gender, and inter-religious dialogue.

Chances are, with all the new things heading my way, the blog is going to get a bit of a makeover in the coming weeks. I'm hoping to step it up on posting, because I imagine this'll be a good way to maintain connections with a lot of people who are special to me. Maybe this cushion time in Atlanta will be a good time to turn over a new leaf...

Roadkill

One day last week as I was driving home from school, I looked at the left shoulder of the road to see a little furry body poised to cross the street at the best time. There was not a soul on the half mile stretch in front of me, with no cars in sight behind me. Crossing the road is the Russian roulette of the animal world - they don't really have the sense to look both ways and think critically about whether to go right now or after the next car passes. Well, this little bunny sized up the situation and decided to take off across the highway when I was about 30 feet away - close enough that I felt like I saw the moment of decision in the bunny's eyes. Fortunately, the bunny ran fast and I slowed down a little bit, so it made it whole to the other side. I drove on thinking, "No wonder there's so much roadkill on this street - they just don't know how to wait for the right moment."

I feel sorry for the animals that lurch unthinkingly into the path of automobiles traveling 70 mph. But they aren't the only ones who do that on FM 600. The people who live on FM 600 are even worse! Regardless of the ample space behind on-coming cars, they feel the need to pull out directly in front of any one who's coming. Sometimes I think they just don't look. Like the rabbit on the shoulder, you get close enough to see the moment of decision in their eyes and "body" language. You begin to mutter, "Don't do it," but before the warning has fallen from your lips they've already pulled into the driving lane at a snail's pace. You slam on your brakes and they look up into the rearview mirror in surprise as if to say, "Oh, I didn't see you there." (How near-sighted are you?!)

I wonder what goes through their minds. "Sure, my 20 year-old, beat-up farm truck can go from 0 to 70 in 5 seconds." Or maybe, "There's just enough space for that person to slam on their brakes before coming through my back windshield. Perfect - I can go." How about: "It's my personal responsibility to make sure that every person on this road is on his or her toes." Or maybe it's more apathetic: "Looking both ways and waiting for on-coming cars to pass is so over-rated." Perhaps it's Calvinism at its most extreme: "There's no point in looking before I pull out - if God wants me to live, I'll live." But I think it's probably more like this: "Zzzzzzzzz..."

Whatever these drivers are thinking (or not thinking), one thing's for certain: they have the same level of defensive driving skills as potential roadkill. Really, folks, let's up the standards here!

Cruisin' the Southeast

It's that time again - I've got the back-to-school-blues. This morning I left my house in Georgia at 8:30 am or so, and tore up the highway until arriving (unexpectedly) at my aunt's door in Irving, Texas at around 8:30 pm. I sort of sprung that one on her at the last minute. It went something like, "Hi, Aunt Jana, I'm driving through Monroe, Louisiana right now... mind if I sleep at your house tonight?!" Anyway, here's my January 2007 Southeast Travelogue:

I listened to exactly 200 songs over 800 miles. And bellowed my own poor version of the lyrics (or uncertain mumbles when I didn't know them). With a little funky dancing here and there. (Well, funky for me.) At this rate, I'll have listened/bellowed to around 250 when I roll into Abilene tomorrow afternoon. (I realize that this is a silly, obscure fact about my trip, but stupid little details can really become fascinating when you're keeping yourself company in a confined space all day. Anything to keep the sleepies at bay!)

In the state of Alabama, I heard quite possibly the most extreme Southern accent that I have ever heard. I'm from the South, but I'd never heard someone whose real accent sounds like he's doing a Larry the Cable Guy impression. He was in line behind me at Arby's talking to another guy about construction. His profession is "framin', buildin' houses." At this point, I almost turned around to join in with, "Oh, my brother's in construction." I stopped myself just in time by picturing the scene - me rattling off my random interjection, having nothing else to say when they looked at me in consternation, giving a tight-lipped smile and turning back around. I ordered an Arby's sandwich instead, and thought, "It's only noon, and I've already been alone too long."

The Mississippi Welcome sign assured me that entering their state is "like coming home." (It's decidedly not - in fact, today it was quite the opposite!) Still, the magnolias planted by the road are nice. Mississippi wins the "Worse Roads in the Southeast Award" for about the 18th year in a row. (And there's really some steep competition.) It's like a roller coaster... only monotonous instead of put-your-hands-in-the-air exciting.

Finally, there was Louisiana. I try not to stop in that state. I'm still not totally sure why - must be some deep-seated prejudice that I haven't eradicated yet. And something to do with filthy convenience station toilets. I don't know which state thought of putting magnolias by the road, but Louisiana does it too - it's like Mississippi and Louisiana are vying over who has more right to the magnolia as their state tree (or is it flower?). Either way, roadside magnolias are nice. If the rivalry ends up meaning that 300 miles of road are lined with magnolia trees, may the fight live on. Apparently there is an epidemic being spread among Louisiana drivers: they speed up to pass you, swing in front of you, and then slooooooowwwwww back down. Way slower than you were going. Then when you try to pass them, they speed back up so you can't pass. Grr. It drives me crazy!

Once I hit Texas, I really felt like I'd accomplished something. I might even have given a little, gleeful rebel yell. (That's what driving through the Deep South does to you.) Then I realized that a full third of the 1,000 mile journey is in Texas alone. It's such a tease. Oh, well. Texans also have a distinctive driving... let's call it a "talent." One minute, there would not be a soul on the mile-long stretch behind me as I shifted lanes to pass a truck. The next minute, the bright headlights of a lifted pick-up would be blinding me in the rearview mirror. How do they do that?

If you've made it this far through this meandering post, you are a true friend! Thanks!