Have you ever taken a sip of someone's drink, thinking it was iced tea, and choking on it when you realized it was apple juice? This school experience is a little like choking on someone else's apple juice. I keep reminding myself that 24 isn't that old, that plenty of people go back to school at 24, that I must have been a giddy 19 year old once too [Wasn't I?]. I keep thinking that making friends wouldn't be so hard if I felt like there was some common ground, some common goal, some common bridge to cross together.

But there isn't. I'm not complaining, hear me out, I do love it here. I can't tell you how exciting it is to have my professors begin class with prayer, or to know that the people I brush up against in the hall are the same people who will congregate with me in Chapel three times a week, or to not have to worry that our literature homework will so pornographic I feel like crying, how wonderful it is to have a roommate and suitemates who love the Lord. It's amazing. God's provision on me, financially, physically, emotionally, it's all amazing.

But I still feel out of place. Like my life is Legally Blonde Gets Religion. Like I could use a really stimulating conversation about the Lord. Like I'm thirsty for homemade sweet tea with a slice of lemon.