Just like Dorothy...

This was a long day. College has its ups and downs. Its days of evaluating picturebooks and making things out of cardboard boxes for preschool classes, and days like today. Good grief. I feel like Dorothy in Oz at school sometimes, only I haven't met the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, or the Cowardly Lion yet, and Toto didn't come along for the ride. I am so different from those people. Different in nearly every possible way. Different in small ways, like that I adore the Chronicles of Narnia books and to them, it's just a drudging assignment in Children's Lit and a waste of time when there's a movie. Different in huge ways, like that I can't accept homosexuality as an "alternative lifestyle" and can't casually mention abortion as a "woman's right" (like my PSY professor did last semester), because I believe it's murder. I walk through the hallways that smell like stale cigarette smoke and then sit in class with people who can spout out more swear words than the main character in an R-rated movie. And it wears on me. I replace my Frank Sinatra CD in the car with some kind of Christian rock, because I have to have something that encourages me. Something that reminds me of what I believe in, because being in that kind of environment for so long can really mess with you.

It's not always like this. Sometimes little things happen...little miracles. A few girls will wait to walk out with me after class because the college is in a shady part of town and they know my Mom doesn't want me walking out to my car alone after dark. A guy will hold the door open or stop and let me cross the street instead of plowing me down in his huge truck. The girl who is so critical of all the other girls seemingly takes up for me when someone makes a potentially hurtful comment. And when these things happen, I'm reminded of the Brandon Heath song. And I ask God to let me see people through His eyes, because I don't know the whole story.

Until next time,