Once again, I won't be going to Master's. It seemed so close; that taunting grass looks ever so green there... the fruit of knowledge and biblical learning just out of reach! I could almost taste it, could almost feel it. But nope. Not yet. Maybe not ever?
The disappointment stings more each time I attempt Master's and never quite make it. Is this a hint? If so, where am I supposed to go? Maybe I'm not supposed to move at all. Cringe. Why my natural instinct is to cringe at staying in Santa Maria I have no idea. The ministry opportunities here are certainly numerous and awesome... there is a college here (although to me, it is the Black Hole of Santa Maria...even more of a possible trap than the town itself...!), and potential jobs...my family is here (biological and church). So- why?
I think I'm scared. As Deja said recently, "For people our age, staying in Santa Maria usually means one of two things: you either get pregnant, or you get hooked on drugs. We have the highest teen pregnancy rate in the country and, I think, the longest red lights. While you're at a red light you have enough time to conceive or get high. That's my theory." People you'd least expect are susceptible to this theory- I've seen that in abundance in the past couple years. And I don't want to think that I'm any more stronger in willpower than the next girl, although I may be. But that has nothing to do with myself alone; it is grace.
So it looks like I'm back to flirting with Allan Hancock while waiting to get serious with the Master. That sounds bad...