We all dressed up, or at least, I thought I did until I saw all the other girls in dresses and heels. Whatever. I was comfortable. We went to Miguel's, a nicer Mexican place known for it's "white salsa," a savory cheese dip. I had a shredded beef burrito. It was good, but no better than something I could have gotten for half the money, when it was all said and done (those large group gratuities can kill you!). The girls are pleasant, but I don't know if we're operating at the same speed. We'll see.
I went to bed at nine and slept until seven. It was amazing. I woke up super energized and ready to do something new and daring. And so I did. But first, I had breakfast. For whatever reason, the door to the dorm kitchen, normally locked and unaccessible except during the evening, was wide open. I gleefully collected my steel-cut oats and mango black tea and took my time crafting a delicious bowl of oatmeal. It stuck with me as I commenced on my project for the day.
Last week, during New Student Orientation, we met in small groups to discuss the "strengths" I mentioned before. Well, my group leader happened to be the pastor of Calvary Chapel Point Loma. He impressed me with his insight and candor, so I hopefully logged onto their website to see if the church was close enough to bike to. As it was just over three miles, I decided to try and see if I could manage it.
I left with plenty of leeway in case I got lost or sidetracked, which I did. The first turn I took was wrong, but my excellent sense of direction got me there anyway, with 10 minutes to spare. The church meets in a residential neighborhood, in a Seventh-Day Adventist building with a trippy stained-glass installment featuring the six days of creation. I enjoyed the service. I sat with some other freshman girls from PLNU, and chuckled to myself when the worship leader turned out to be exactly what you'd expect at a small, grassroots Calvary Chapel like this one: long haired, with superb electric guitar skills, singing old classics from the 70s movement, including Keith Green's "Oh Lord, You're Beautiful."
Dave Heitman, the aforementioned small group leader/pastor, gave a spot-on message about not finding a comfortable distance away from Jesus, somewhere in the murky afterglow, but coming so close to His light it hurts, so close that all one's flaws and dark places are illuminated.
Afterward, I mounted my bike with some trepidation. Most of the trip there had been downhill, so the way back could only be the opposite. At least I'd earn my lunch, I thought. It wasn't terribly bad, though it was mainly uphill. I discovered a route not only more efficient than the accidental detour I'd taken in the beginning, but also faster than the MapQuest directions I was following. Just give me a month and I'll have this place memorized.
I won't lie; I was tired and sweaty and pretty much done by the time I reached the last large hill leading to the campus. But coasting down to my dorm, I felt the exertion high. I had biked over six miles, I had found a decent church, and I had brunch in the caf to look forward to. It was good.
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