Chapter Seven: In which we kill all the spiders and get lost continually although we are not British soldiers.

After eight days of travel and 50 hours of driving, Spencer and I arrived in Belmont, Massachusetts. It was the evening of August 11, and we were tired. We had been told that the door was open, so we chose to walk in and explore our new apartment.

We already knew that the apartment was only 350 square feet, but knowing that and seeing that are two very different things. I was immediately worried about how we'd fit all of our things. Knowing that you'll not really have a kitchen and seeing your not-kitchen are also quite different. I didn't know if I d ever eat a real meal again. Other reality check included the difference between living in a basement in a desert and living in a basement in a humid region. You could almost smell the humidity like a moist, warm blanket of fresh spores shoving its way into our lungs and nostrils and seeping from our glands. And finally, I knew there would be more bugs, but with cobwebs in nearly every corner and multiple spiders spotted, I nearly had a breakdown. Instead, I made Spencer kill every spider I saw, and we unloaded nearly half of our truck.

It became dark quickly. And with the dark came the reality that I would have to go to sleep. I couldn't shower for fear of spiders, and I couldn't bear the thought of sleeping in our spider-infested apartment. After breaking down in sobs at seeing and making Spencer kill another spider in the bathroom, I just knew I couldn't do it. I had to go home.

It was keenly ironic to me, even in the moment, that I was the one who had brought us here with my goals and opportunities, yet I was the one falling apart and wishing for home. Spencer held it together, though I'm sure he was struggling too. Perhaps I can blame it on my severe phobia of spiders, perhaps I can blame it on prolonged stress and exhaustion, but no matter what the cause I had not yet gained the fortitude necessary to face this with any shred of composure. After many reassurances and attempts to reason with me, Spencer convinced me to get in bed. After checking the bed and walls for spiders, I got into our bed in my sweaty stickiness and pulled the sheets tightly around me. Luckily, we had a box fan unpacked, but even so, I was miserable. Sleep was fleeting. I woke up hour after hour, being plagued with horrific dreams of spiders attacking me, crawling all over me, and eating me. One spider almost got Spencer, and I yelled myself and Spencer awake. It took me a while to realize it wasn't real and that Spencer was safe.

By the morning, I was determined to make a change. So Spencer and I set to work destroying every last cobweb and spider. My mantra was, "Kill it! Kill it with fire!" even though I or usually Spencer just sucked up the soulless beasts with the vacuum hose. After vacuuming, wiping down the windows and other pieces of furniture, and killing all the spiders, we continued moving in. Spencer's brother Caleb had come down from Maine to help us, bringing fly paper and Martinelli's sparkling cider as house-warming gifts. He helped us move in the last half of our boxes, take our moving truck back, and even unpack a bit. We took a food break at 5 Guys, very needed, and had a really productive day. Just having a familiar face in our new environment was comforting, and his help and support meant a lot to us.

Since then, we have continued to find and kill spiders, even though their numbers are dwindling. We also spent an entire day unpacking. When our landlord's realized that we could benefit from more storage space, they cleared out a large cubby area for our use. They also got us a dehumidifier to help us survive while we attempted to acclimate. They purchased nails and wall mounts, so we could put up our art, and helped us acquire a burner, bed frame, and box-spring of sorts. With their help and our diligence, we finally found a place for everything, whether out or in storage, and our little apartment is finally livable and even cozy. I'm also loving having a piano! And I adore my Japanese and Chinese art wall. :)

Once we had finally settled into and addressed some of the immediate difficulties of our apartment, we began to explore the area. First stop, an ice cream shop. And yes, we got lost. Getting lost here is inevitable! All of the streets wind and twist, change names halfway through, and only irregularly (at best) post street signs. Supposedly this is because the locals took down the street sign in order to confuse the British army back during the Revolutionary War, and now the city won't put the signs back up for the sake of historicity. It may be a myth, but either way, getting lost here is basically our pastime. We did eventually find the ice cream shop though, and I even learned the original name for Oreos, which is Hydrox.

On Sunday, we had to walk to church since we didn't know anyone in the ward yet to ask for a ride. So we set out at 1;00 p.m. since church started at 2:00 p.m. Somewhere along the way, we took a wrong turn, making our 2 1/2 mile walk in the hot sun become a 4-mile walk. By the time we arrived, we'd missed Sacrament meeting and I was foot-sore, blistered, and devastated. No grid, no street signs, no mountains! I was feeling very grumpy when a kind man named Clayton Christensen (the professor at Harvard Business School) introduced himself. He quickly learned our names, that we had just moved in, and that we had walked. "You walked all that way in this heat and humidity!? I'll be giving you a ride home." Seriously, I almost cried right then and there, I was so grateful. He then proceeded to introduce us to lots of people with the caveat, "Such-and-such, can you believe they walked all the way here today?" At which point that person would offer us a ride home. :) Soon our tremendous walk because of the legendary heresay of the ward. Needless to say, our ward is fantastic! It seems that the Lord, without our knowing or planning, has led us to the Mormon Mecca of Massachusetts. We were immediately invited to dinner (such a blessing when you don't have much of a kitchen), told of everyone who lived near us, had suggestions for a future carpool, and provided with a list of leads for Spencer's job hunt. We also discovered that we have quite a few Harvard professors, well-known news anchors, vocal performers, musicians, and other pseudo-famous individuals like Mitt Romney's son in our ward. Oh, and we'll be having a Clambake in early September! Clambakes are a real thing, and I am so pleased. :) I wonder if they'll have baked clams; if they don't I'll feel deeply betrayed.

Other aspects of settling in:

• Spencer and I got our library cards! We love libraries. :) We have checked out and are now watching a BBC mini-series called Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell which is based on a fantastic book by Susanna Clarke that I recommend to everyone.
• We found the grocery store and have started biking around town! And we aren't getting lost as much. :D
• We got Charlie Cards, which make public transit cheaper and easier to pay for. We used said Charlie Cards to try out my bus route to Cambridge. Once off the bus, we promptly got lost. We did eventually find the Divinity School, and I made my interview on time!  
• As hinted at, I had a second interview. Though I was already offered a job with Religions and the Practice of Peace, I was invited for an interview with an administrative assistant position with the Office of Communications. It has more hours and higher pay and more closely aligns with my resume and interests, so I was thrilled. The interview went splendidly, and I was offered the job! Yay for good jobs. :)
• Crockpot meals rock!
• I've also been spending a lot of time editing a novel I acquired right before we moved. So Spencer has gone to the library to use their public computers to look for and apply for jobs. 
• I found a pharmacy and transferred prescriptions.
• We found a cheap pizza place called Comella's.
• I registered! August 22 was registration, which is essentially just place-holding the classes you're interested in. We then go to all the classes we're interested in for a week and decide if we actually want to enroll. I've registered for 8 classes that I'm totally thrilled to try out, and I will probably end up registering for 4 or 5 tops. For those interested in my classes, I have registered for 1) Theories and Methods in the Study of Religion, 2) Virginia Woolf and Religion, 3) Back Roads to Far Places: Literature of Journey and Quest, 4) Gender, Sexuality, and Mormonism, 5) Animated Spirituality: Japanese Religion in Anime, Manga, and Film, 6) Love and Nothingness, 7) Elementary Classical Hebrew, and 8) Religion, Gender, and Politics in Transnational Perspective.

Now for what is quickly becoming my traditional moment of transparency. To be honest, this move has been really difficult for me, and I have not put forward my best self. I've complained a lot, silly since this is my doing, my opportunity, and my dream. But I've complained and buckled under the stress anyway. It's been really hard on Spencer. Luckily, the hardest part of adjusting to a new space or lack thereof, a new diet based on kitchen restrictions, the spider nightmares, the stifling humidity, the frequency with which we get lost, and the isolation now that we have to (after years) actually try to make friends again has ebbed. And Spencer and I are doing better for it. I've curbed my gut reaction to say, "I want to go home" every time something is difficult because this is my home now. And I've really done some soul-searching regarding how to develop fortitude. 

Never in my life have I tried to keep in contact with so many people. I'm writing two missionaries weekly and monthly. I'm writing a friend and trying to find time to call my family as well as four or five other friends. I'm writing this blog to reach out to everyone else I love. But I still feel like I'm missing, a part of me is missing. I miss the mountains of the Wasatch front and the red and rocky landscape of Southern Utah. I miss the excitement of rain and the looming shadows of mountains both near and far. I miss the brown that made the splash of green such a miracle, such a blessing. I miss the safety of having a place, of having friends who knew and loved you on good days and bad days. I miss watching Alan Rickman films and going to Pioneer Book with Abby; talking with Paige about my newest hankering for a haircut; discussing my life and worries with Caroline; watching anime with Thayne, Jon, and Abby, or playing games with CT. I miss D&D with Cub, Dan, Jake, Melanie, Kent, Quina . . . like a lot. I miss being close to my family and thinking of times when I can snag some time to play Mice and Mystics or frisbee with Tanner and Jason, or go to lunch with McKenzie, or talk to Mom and Dad. I miss knowing a place and feeling a sense of community with my neighbors like I did with Michael and Michaiah and the many other couples we knew and loved. I miss serving in the singles' ward and seeing everyone I loved there. I miss knowing where I'm going and what a place has to offer and being involved and mobile and actively engaged in a community.

But as I contemplate everything that I miss, I realize that I'm glad I miss it. This deep love for a place and the people there show time well spent and relationships well tended. I also realize that missing such things motivates me to create such a life in Belmont, Massachusetts. I'm especially grateful that many of these things are not only possible but are already happening here. We have already been introduced to a sense of community through our ward, and Spencer and I will make more friends through school, work, and church. Caleb lives close by, so we'll be able to see at least one member of our family once a month. And the craggy rocks and dense trees here are so beautiful. I can't even tell you how excited I am for New England fall fashion, site-seeing, lighthouses, leaves changing color, challenging school courses and engagement, and sailing (Spencer and I would be Persuasion if we were a Jane Austen novel).

While reading Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique, I found a passage of note in my current circumstance. "Growth has not only rewards and pleasures, but also many intrinsic pains and always will have. Each step forward is a step into the unfamiliar and is thought of as possibly dangerous. It also frequently means giving up something familiar and good and satisfying. It frequently means a parting and a separation with consequent nostalgia, loneliness, and mourning. It also often means giving up a simpler and easier and less effortful life in exchange for a more demanding, more difficult life. Growth forward is in spite of these losses and therefore requires courage strength in the individual, as well as protection, permission, and encouragement from the environment . . ." So here's to having courage and fortitude on the road of growth. We're all on it, but sometimes it includes nearly perishing from the humidity, killing all the spiders, getting lost although I'm not a British soldier, and becoming instant legends in your new ward because you walked four miles in the heat and humidity of the day to get to church. 

No, I have not reached sainthood, but all I'm saying is that this better get me close. 

Chapter Six: In which we cross the country and learn that driving 50 hours is actually possible.

The morning of our move had arrived. We'd spent the past week getting me epilepsy medication, spending time with friends and family, packing the Penske truck, selling our car and some last few pieces of furniture, and cleaning. And then suddenly we were done. We woke to an empty apartment and a full truck (and the delicious breakfast one of our home teachers had brought us). It was surreal to realize we were actually leaving. Nothing was holding us back, we just needed to start driving. I wore my "Oh, the places you'll go!" shirt for the occasion. But honestly, it was a rather sobering realization, full of potential but more nerve-wracking than exciting. After my moment's hesitation, I hoped into the passenger's seat, and Spencer drove away.

As we drove away from the Spanish Fork Turbines and the red rock of Southern Utah, I felt flooded with memories of hiking the Hot Pots with Jon and Abby; going to Canyonlands with Brittney, Tanner, Spencer, and Anne; the many family reunions I'd enjoyed in St. George. I was grateful that we'd chosen to go through Colorado on our way out. It wasn't so different from Utah in a lot of ways, and that familiarity helped mitigate the homesickness that can grow from nostalgia.

Stop #1: Amanda, Wes, and Blue!

So our first stop was in Durango, CO. Why Durango? Because that's where Amanda, Wes, and Blue live! Amanda is one of Spencer's best friends from high school, so it was a really big deal to us that we get to see her (like I got to see Sarah) before we headed out. We missed Wes, Amanda's husband, who was in Salt Lake (oh, the irony) at the time, but we got to spend a wonderful evening with Amanda and Blue. We spent a lot of time catching up after our initial barrage of hugs. We then donned our rain jackets and took a lovely stroll through downtown in the rain and mist in search of food. We got to see the store that Amanda and Wes work at, and I got a free calendar of beautiful Colorado scenery (a big deal when you're as crazy about scrapbooking as I am). The old-town feel with the whistle of the train in the air was extremely idyllic. I'll just put a plug in for Durango, it is a beautiful place and worth a stop for anyone! I'll certainly be going back: Amanda, mentioned us coming for a week of hiking, and I was like, "heck yes!" Anyway, for dinner, we ate the most delicious burgers at a place called Steamworks. And let me tell you, it was pure savory delight! We finished off our evening together with ice cream and RENT, which I had never seen. I also tried to snap a picture of blue, but he wasn't exceptionally obliging.

The time we have with those we love never feels long enough, but after sleeping off our first day of travel, Spencer and I said goodbye to Amanda and Blue with love for Wes and headed out into the fog of a rainy day in the mountains. This was the long day. We were going to be driving for 14 hours (which ended up being 16 due to time zones, slow drivers, and stops). Fortunately, our longest day was accompanied by lovely scenery. Yes, I think Nebraska is lovely. :)

So I spent most of the day reading. As you know, with my recent seizure, my license had been suspended, so it was up to Spencer to drive across the country. I had been meaning to read The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan but hadn't gotten to it yet. So I decided a 50-hour road trip was a good opportunity. I had the paperback as well as the audiobook, so I hunkered down in my jacket, raindrops streaming down my window, and set to reading. It really only would have been better with a cup of hot cocoa . . . and maybe a little bit less guilt at knowing Spencer was driving because I couldn't. It ended up being really interesting for both of us, though. Every time I'd read a profound or thought-provoking part, I'd stop, read it to Spencer, and then discuss it with him. Seriously, this is one of my favorite things about our marriage. We are pros at discussing current issues, philosophies, trends, movements, you name it. I even have a mental list of my favorite discussions that we've had. Anyway, so hours upon hours, bathroom breaks upon bathroom breaks, gas stations upon gas stations, and fast food restaurants upon fast food restaurants later, we made it to Omaha, Nebraska. It was 2:00 a.m., so of course we watched some of the Olympics and, only then, went to bed.

Stop #2: The Henry Doorly Zoo!
Growing up, Spencer had lived in Blair, Nebraska. One of his favorite memories had been going to the Henry Doorly Zoo, so he thought he'd share the experience with me on our way through. Now the Henry Doorly Zoo is considered the best zoo in the world, and I definitely think it deserves the title. Among the amazing exhibits was the Lied Jungle, one of the world's largest indoor rainforests; the Desert Dome, the world's largest indoor desert; the Kingdoms of the Night, which is the world's largest nocturnal exhibit and indoor swamp; the free-flight Aviary, an aquarium, an indoor Butterfly garden; and an IMAX theater. The also had a section for cats, bears, gorillas and monkeys, a lagoon, African grasslands, and a whole section dedicated to children (animal petting, a carousel, a water splash pad/park area, etc.) To say the least, I was excited! We had the whole day set aside for the zoo, and I was going to see an elephant!

So since this was a full day, I'll just give you the highlights.

• The Lied Jungle was incredible. Walking on rope bridges was definitely cool and the relative free-reign of the animals was awesome, except for the snakes, I ran away from all the snake exhibits.
• The aquarium was stunning. We wandered through a glass tunnel and stared as all the sharks and fish and turtles and other sea life swam around us. It was legitimately beautiful. 

• The Skyfari (essentially a ski lift over the park) was really nice. And the train around the park helped break up all the walking although the grasslands and other areas were rather inactive. The elephants were new and shy so not being able to see them very well was the only real disappointment.

• The IMAX was soo cool! The screen was six stories tall, and it was in 3D. We saw a documentary about the National Parks in honor of the Centennial this year, and even though the connecting story could have been better, the footage was absolutely breathtaking!
• The butterfly indoor garden was a delight. Nothing is more magical than being surrounded by butterflies in flight.
• I saw a baby sea lion! And it was the cutest thing. It kept imitating the big sea lions.
• The free-flight Aviary made me think of Anne. And for the first time, I didn't feel afraid of birds. I was just happy to be able to watch the birds fly around me and think of her. 

• The cats and bears and gorillas were mostly sleeping, which is their prerogative I should think. But the monkeys were super active. The way they swung from branch to branch was astonishing. They were so graceful and even freakishly limber. Also, a few of the monkeys were cuddling, which was obviously adorable.
• I got a pressed quarter imprint of an elephant! I guess that kind of makes up for the elephants being so shy . . . kind of. ;)
• I touched a starfish! So so weird!
• We saw a bunch of statues inspired by the raccoon spirits of Japanese Shintoism. Think Miyazaki's Pom Poko.

So yeah, that was our day at the Henry Doorly Zoo. It was great! But the day was not done. We still had to drive to Iowa. So we jumped in our truck, stopped at a Dairy Queen (where they gave me country gravy with my fries!) and drove on to Des Moines. We stayed with Preston, Kiki, and Pearl Hatch in Des Moines, although Kiki and Pearl were in California at the time. Even so, having a place to stay and go to Sacrament Meeting the next morning was really nice. 

Stop #3: Schaumburg and Chicago

After church, we traveled across Iowa and into Illinois where the dreaded tolls started. >:( All the trees started too! There were some trees in Iowa, but I feel like the scenery really started to change from fields to trees in Illinois.

It was only a five-hour drive to Schaumburg. My Aunt Margo, Uncle Corbin, and cousins Katherine and Stephanie lived in Schaumburg, and we had so much fun with them! The first evening we talked and joked over chicken nuggets, taquitos, and fish sticks. Katherine pulled out some old photo albums and that was a good laugh. We also watched a Danish film called Babette's Feast. I really liked it; it was just a film telling a story, a segment of someone's life. I like films like that. It was also an old classic from BYU's International Cinema, so that—along with the popcorn—was fun. 

The next day, Margo loaded us up with food and Corbin made sure we had directions, and we jumped on the Metra to Chicago. Coming out the Chicago station into the streets was stunning. The skyscrapers were so tall! Just walking down the street you couldn't help but feel alive and invigorated by all the life and purpose around you. We first walked to Millennium Park where we saw the skyline and the "Bean". Then we headed to Buckingham Fountain and ate lunch on the boardwalk by the edge of Lake Michigan. It was beautiful (and with the boats and gulls around, I definitely thought it was an ocean at first. Silly me!). Then it was time for the Chicago Institute of Art!

Spencer and I quickly discovered that our museum-going styles were quite different, so we split up in order to each be able to peruse at our own pace. For the next five hours, I immersed myself in exhibits. Some of my favorite sections were 1) the impressionists. I've always adored impressionism, and their section was a perfect addition to the impressionist work I'd seen in London. 2) A photography exhibit combining black and white photography of Harlem and excerpts of Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man. 3) An exhibit showcasing the art that emerged from the Great Depression and Second World War era. It was extremely sobering. 4) The section on Japanese art. It included wood block, my personal favorite. As well as jade pieces of art, beautifully designed snuff bottles, folding screen art, and so much more. 5) The modern art. I've always thought modern art was really cool, but I particularly like Pablo Picasso, Henri Matisse, and Salvador Dali (though he led surrealism). And finally 6) the Thorne Miniature Rooms exhibit. Go check it out if you don't know what it is! It was so incredible. The mini rooms were set back in the wall, so it was like looking at a painting that was actually a diorama. The artist had even made outside scenery for each room so that as you looked around the room and changed your perspective you could see outside the doors and windows to the world outside which was as equally intricate. It was astonishing.

After five wonderful hours at the museum, Spencer and I briskly walked to our train back to Schaumburg, we made it by two minutes. Back with Margo, Corbin, Stephanie, and Katherine, we had Lou Malnati's Deep Dish pizza. It was the most delectable pizza I've ever had! So so good. :) Can't do Chicago without trying deep dish pizza. We finished our evening together by playing Masterpiece, a game about buying and selling art in the Chicago Institute of Art. So appropriate. Oh! And they own a cat named Steel, who really liked Spencer. He also liked having his bum scratched. And then it was time to move on. I think Spencer is going to miss Steel. 

Stop #4: Marblehead Lighthouse

Day six was also a long driving day. We drove through Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and up to Niagara Falls, New York. (p.s. Indiana has super super nice rest stops.) It was about 10 hours with only a stop at the Marblehead Lighthouse. The Lighthouse was on Lake Erie in Ohio. It is the oldest lighthouse still in operation in the nation. We weren't there long, but it was tranquil, calming. I love lighthouses. My grandparents served a couple mission in Connecticut and brought home a lot of lighthouse figurines. I loved having that lighthouse sitting on our piano blowing it's horn when someone would move past it while it was switched on. It was a long time ago that I first decided I loved lighthouses. They're beautiful, often simple, and safe. For some reason I find lighthouses to be deeply calming and even moving at times. I'm glad that I'm moving somewhere where I'll be able to see more lighthouses.

Stop #5 that wasn't: The Niagara Falls Disaster

So the Inn just outside of Niagara Falls was the seediest place we stayed at the whole trip. Seriously, I would only walk around with socks on, the AC unit was mangled, and when we opened the half fridge the door fell off. Well, after sleeping fitfully, we woke to find that their "free breakfast" was nothing more than a small coffee pot with a tiny packaged sugar roll. So we walked to the truck with no breakfast. It was then that I noticed that my wallet was missing. Spencer and I kept relatively calm, simply looking for it, till 15 minutes had passed, we'd searched every possible place, and we still couldn't find it. I was beginning to panic. I prayed and kept looking. I decided to recheck everything. I went up to the room although we'd already checked out, and luckily, it was unlocked. After looking around a bit, I checked under some sheets and there it was! Disaster avoided.

Well, by this point, Spencer and I were less than cheerful, so we grumpily headed toward Niagara, our first stop for the day. After getting lost, we finally found the area. But it was much more touristy and commercialized than we had expected of a State Park. We tried to park but were told our truck wasn't allowed in the lot, only to be led to a truck lot that cost $45 to park! So without ever seeing the falls we gave up and left. I was so miffed; Niagara Falls had been one of my most anticipated stops. I even cried and dramatically proclaimed, "Cruel fate has robbed me of a memory!" Yeah, I was distraught. I did my best to read and sleep off my bad mood. After all, we'd be in Palmyra in a few hours, and I wanted to be happy for that. 

Stop #6: Palmyra, New York

Once we arrived in Palmyra, we set about seeing all the sights that were there. We started at the Smith Farm and the Sacred Grove. This was probably wise because it immediately set the tone and helped us calm our spirits from the effect of all the disasters and near-disasters of the previous night and morning. Spencer read the first vision account in the Grove, and we just walked and meditated, for a little while, occasionally speaking. Then we tried some General Tso's Chicken at the local Chinese restaurant because of a Netflix documentary we had watched called Searching for General Tso. One iron-clad rule of travel: no matter how small a town, there will always be a Chinese restaurant. After our lunch of General Tso, we toured the Book of Mormon Publication Site and visited the Martin Harris Farm and Alvin Smith's grave. I've felt really close to Alvin since I was little, probably because of reading about Joseph Smith's feelings for him in the scriptures, other accounts, and The Work and the Glory series. Regardless visiting his grave was really special for me.

 We ended sightseeing with a stop at the Hill Cumorah. We climbed the hill, which was flipping steep, and sat at the Hill Cumorah Monument. Back down at the visitor's center, we got to talk to a really nice senior missionary, who told us where to go to change for our temple session later that night. 

After leaving the visitor's center and changing, Spencer and I headed to the Palmyra Temple. It was such a lovely way to end the day. We watched an older temple video, the one that I saw and hadn't seen since my first time going through. And by the end of the evening, I could look back and say that it had been a wonderful day. 

The next morning, we finished our experience at the Palmyra LDS church sites by visiting and touring the Whitmer Farm in Fayette, where the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was formally organized. That sight was probably where I felt the spirit the most, so I'm glad that we went. 

Stop #7: The Women's Rights Museum and National Historical Park   

I stand with them.

Seneca Falls and the Women's Rights Museum was our last stop before reaching our new home in Belmont, Massachusetts. Because the museum is run by the National Parks, I had the opportunity to become a Junior Ranger and get a badge! I filled all the requirements in the little book as we took a tour and saw the Wesleyan Chapel where the First Women's Convention was held in July 1848. Then I was sworn in and felt so proud! Anne introduced me, Brittney, Tanner, and Spencer to the Junior Ranger program in Canyonlands back in April, and I was going to make her so jealous! That probably isn't very nice, to make a missionary jealous, so I'll have to promise that we can go back and get her a badge too once she's home.

After the tour, we ate lunch at Cafe XIX (named for the 19th Amendment and decorated with pictures of and facts about the women who championed the women's rights movement), and went to see Elizabeth Cady Stanton's home. 

Stop #8: Our New Home!

Then we were off to Massachusetts! So by this time we are really really used to the dense trees that began in Illinois and grew denser through Ohio and New York, but Massachusetts was even more so! Equally surprising was that the landscape became craggier with rocks lining and shaping the forests to each side of the highway. After an intense downpour, the worst rain of our whole trip, we were suddenly there. We had reached Belmont. After an eventful intersection where we broke three or so laws in our confusion, we arrived at our apartment. We had done it! I was nearly done with The Feminine Mystique, and Spencer had survived. Now I know that driving 50 hours across the United State is possible. What's more, it is possible for one person because that is what Spencer did. 

We had made it with very few incidents: a small scratch on the truck and the few moments cruel fate butted in. We had survived the time zone changes, the seedier hotels we'd stayed in, and all the stops that I'd added into the trip in an attempt to make it fun. We'd traveled through nine states and watched the landscape of America evolve from the West to the East. Our trip, that I had once felt would never come and then felt would never end, was over. Now, all we had to do was settle in and begin anew. Simple enough right?

Chapter Five: In which we experience seven miracles and everything falls into place.

Us feeling well and happy. Another miracle considering
the astounding stress of moving and everything else.

Miracle #1
While I may be epileptic, shortly after being diagnosed, I realized that because I was going to Harvard Divinity, I would be an epileptic with very good insurance through the school. I would also be in the center of mass intelligence and, I am sure, medical and neurological brilliance. I would also live in a place with consistent public transit so that I wouldn't be dependent on Spencer to drive me places till my six-month license suspension is up. We also don't have a gas stove anymore, so even though that doesn't exactly feel like a blessing, it is worth noting that I will more easily be able to keep the directive to not cook over an open flame. :) And, there is a pharmacy a 15-minute walk away, so my prescription won't be as much of a hassle. I believe that such circumstances are miraculous.

Miracle #2
We got an apartment! Yes, we did. :) Two weeks before we were to move out, I was on the Off-Campus Harvard Housing site and saw a new listing for an apartment in Belmont, Massachusetts.

The pros: It is about $400 to $600 under the average price we'd found thus far. It includes all the utilities, including WiFi and a washer and dryer. It can come furnished. It is only a 30-minute bus ride from Harvard Square on a consistent and frequent bus line. It is only a 15-minute walk from the library, town center, a post office, and a grocery store. The contract is 9-months long, so if we found we needed to move, we weren't locked into a long-term agreement. It is in the same city as the Boston Temple, which was a pleasant surprise. And it has a piano!

The cons: It is only 350 sq. feet, which is much much smaller than where we have previously lived. (Good thing we started de-junking.) It doesn't really have a kitchen. (Sad face.) Instead, it has what can be considered a kitchenette, which includes a half-fridge, a burner, a microwave, and a toaster oven. (Luckily we also have an electric skillet, a crock pot, and a few other helpful appliances, as well as a nearby grocery store since we'll be shopping more frequently with our minimal space.) The apartment has a sink, though not in a convenient place. And it is in a basement, so not as much natural light.

The miracle, though, was that the landlords were willing to work with us. They walked us through the apartment over Skype, performed credit checks and references with little hassle, mailed us the contract, and were very easy to work with on the whole. So with two weeks to spare, we had found an apartment! Yes, it would require less-comfortable living and some interesting sacrifices, but it also provided some tender mercies, like the piano and the temple, that we had not counted on. I'm mainly just glad that we're not going blind anymore.

Miracle #3
I got a job! Yes, I did. :) Around the same time we found the apartment, I was offered a phone interview with the Religions and the Practice of Peace initiative. They are a group on Harvard campus that conducts monthly colloquiums on strategies for sustaining peace. I would be a graduate assistant and would do whatever is required in facilitating these events from catering to publicizing. I'm simply relieved that I have a way to buffer our financial situation. *Phew.

Miracle #4
Spencer got a great price on a moving truck! Yes, he did. :) We had finally figured out a moving date: August 4th. So Spencer started looking up quotes for a moving truck. Within 12 hours every place he had looked up was calling trying to offer the best deal. But Penske won. They offered unlimited miles, with a 10-day limit (perfect for our 8-day trip plus a day to load and unload), they included the cost of insurance, and they gave us a few discounts that amounted to the venture being hundreds of dollars cheaper. So happy!

Miracle #5
We've sold almost all of our furniture! Now, this is a two-pronged miracle because when we moved into our complex three years ago, they were contracted as furnished apartments. But the complex had gradually shifted to unfurnished, so we received all the furniture for free. Well, with how small our apartment was going to be, along with the fact that it was already furnished, we decided to sell the furniture for whatever profit we could get. And most of it sold! That gave us a couple hundred dollars we hadn't counted on initially.

Miracle #6
We sold our car! It was two days before we left Provo, and we were stressed. We needed to sell our car since we needed the money to help complete our road trip and pay rent. It also wasn't economical to keep our car with the cost of insurance and tolls, especially since we already had a bike as well as ready access to consistent public transit. But we hadn't even gotten one call. We thought we might sell it to a dealership under its value, and then I got a voicemail. A friend of mine from my past study abroad had had her car break down for the final time at work that day. She had seen my post about our car on Facebook and was hoping to come to see it. Within a few hours, our car was sold. The timing was impeccable and astonishing.

Miracle #7

Me and Sarah

We were able to see nearly every friend and family member we'd hoped to see before we hit the road! We had multiple family reunions that were timed perfectly so we could go. And we had so many friends adjust their schedules and even travel to us just to show us some farewell-for-now love. Seeing one friend, in particular, was especially miraculous though. My best friend from high school is Sarah (Dodds) Chandler, and I wanted to see her so badly before moving away. But we just hadn't been able to make it work since she lives in another state. So I prayed and prayed and prayed that somehow she or I would find a way to get to the other. So five days before we leave, I get a text from her saying that she's in Utah!!! A series of last-minute circumstances had led to her being able to come down with her husband, and she could come by that afternoon!

Best afternoon ever. If that isn't a miraculously answered prayer then I don't know what is.

~~~

I could share many more miracles, least of all the generosity of our family and friends who helped us clean our apartment, provided food the morning of our move out, moved boxes, loved and supported us through this experience, and assisted us financially with medical bills, moving, and school in general. But I'll leave it there and say that when you walk by faith, things do eventually fall into place. God is always in our corner.

Chapter Four: In which I am diagnosed with Epilepsy a week before moving to Massachusetts.

When I was a Junior in high school, I was very stressed. I had busied myself with AP courses and extracurricular activities to the point where I slept and ate little. It was near the middle of the year when I got an exhaustion migraine, so I went to bed. I woke up in the hospital to a bright light and a rather attractive doctor in teal scrubs. My tongue ached and burned, and I was exhausted. I had had my first seizure. Recovery was relatively quick. The worst part was getting over the trauma my teeth had inflicted on my tongue. My sisters didn't sleep as deeply anymore (they shared a room with me and had found me suffocating in my pillow the night of the seizure.), and my friends at school worried, but not much else changed. A month later, like an aftershock of an earthquake, I got a migraine, I went to sleep, and I had a seizure. This time it was much less violent, and I didn't go to the hospital. Instead, I got an EEG, a sleep study with a bunch of goop and wires attached to my scalp. My tongue ached and burned in a familiar way, and I decided it was time to make a change. I started eating regularly and for the next six years, I rarely failed to get eight hours of sleep a night. For a while, I got scared every time I had a migraine. But eventually, the seizures faded away with the label "isolated incidents".

On Father's Day, June 19th, 2016, I woke up in the car. I was disoriented, it was dawn, I couldn't remember anything, and my tongue ached and burned in a familiar way. "I think you had a seizure, Natalie. We're headed to the hospital." Spencer's voice. Driving pas Kneaders in Provo. Seizure. What? This can't be happening. I started to cry. At the hospital, my blood was tested for its prolactin levels. The nurse asked me what my favorite color was and my thought process was, "I love Anne (Whitehouse), she loves nature, therefore my favorite color is green." So I said green. Grabbing a neon green bandage the nurse replied, "I bet this isn't your favorite shade, but it's the only green we've got." I promptly replied, "No, it is not my favorite." Equally frustrating to having a neon green bandage instead of a dark or olive green one was the fact that "The Golden Girls" was playing. At first, it was "I Love Lucy," which I could deal with since my dad liked it so much. But I simply could not stand "The Golden Girls."

Amid my major frustration and mild pain, the doctor came back and affirmed that I had had a seizure. I was so mad and scared. First of all, I was experiencing short-term memory amnesia. And let me tell you, being conscious and knowing you can't remember anything is deeply frightening. I think I tasted, but only minimally, the fear of dementia. While we were in the urgent care, Spencer filled me in on the date, our past week, the previous night, and how he'd found me. He'd waken up shortly after the seizure to the sound of me gurgling. I was choking on my saliva. Frightened, he'd done his best to shift me and clear my airways based on his first aid knowledge and called his dad, who is a doctor. Thankfully his dad answered and directed Spencer to take me to urgent care to test for a seizure. My amnesia made it difficult for Spencer to get me out of the door because, although I don't remember it, I kept disagreeing with Spencer about whether we were going out or coming home and whether or not I should be wearing a bra. Funny in hindsight, I suppose. Second, I didn't want to deal with this again. What if it had never been an isolated incident? What if it was epilepsy? We were trying to pay for Harvard and a cross-country move! I couldn't afford to have medical bills and a lifetime medication requirement. Had I done something wrong? Not handled my stress? Not eaten enough or slept regularly enough? Why now?

We were released from the hospital, and I went back to bed. Upon waking I began to move forward. I needed another EEG, so Spencer and I scheduled one only to be turned away upon arrival because they didn't network with my insurance. So I researched more clinics and scheduled another appointment only to find out an order had never been put in by the ER doctor. So I pulled a few strings, called some people, and finally got in. More goop, more wires, more time spent looking like a Frankenstein. And then we waited. My appointment analyzing the EEG wasn't for a month, so life went back to normal.

Then I woke up exhausted. My tongue ached and burned in a familiar way. And I was pissed. It had been exactly a month since my seizure. What!? Did my brain just decide to make my corpus callosum a freaking fault line? Was I going to have an earthquake in my brain with an aftershock a month later every six years for the rest of my life? I was upset. Spencer was understanding. I was scared. Spencer was worried but reassuring. Meanwhile, my father-in-law kindly sent me an informative and reassuring email preparing me for the possibility of epilepsy.

The morning of my appointment arrived. I went in and was told that my EEG was clear but that my symptoms were undeniable. I had had epileptic seizures. Therefore regardless of the test, I had epilepsy. I left with a prescription for Lamotrigine. I felt fine, I looked fine, I thought I was fine. A little disappointed maybe, a lot in denial. But in reality, I was just on autopilot. It was like I was trying to prove to the doctor, Spencer, myself, who knows who, that I could deal with this. I totally took the news in stride, listened to his explanation of the drug, no sweat. But as soon as we left the office, I said, "I knew it," and became silent. When something that inescapable and previously unbelievable and "other" happens, your brain kind of quiets and sets about making room for your new reality. True incredulity—the kind that eventually demands a paradigm shift regarding one's views of self and way of life because what is so unbelievable is, in fact, true—sounds like silence.


It was at the pharmacy that the situation fully sank in. I think it took about two hours for me to go through the stages of grief multiple times. It was like my emotions were on repeat. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. My eyes filled up with tears when the pharmacist handed me the medication. This can't be happening, I kept thinking. Then I saw Ghirardelli's Dark and Sea Salt Caramel Chocolate. Turning to Spencer, I asked if he would mind us buying some. He grabbed a bag and put it on the check out counter.

~~~

So coming to terms with being epileptic has been nowhere near as difficult as coming to terms with being medicated.  Lamotrigine, though the safest anti-seizure drug on the market, especially for pregnant women, and only $10 a month in comparison to some which sit at $800 a month, is a seizure medication. And seizure medications always come with a slew of rather frightening, albeit extremely rare, side effects. Seizure medications break the fetal barrier, so if I start Lamotrigine while pregnant or will be on it when I become pregnant, my babies are now at risk for birth defects. Fortunately, all side effects are rare, and the worst defect recorded thus far is a cleft palate. I can deal with a cleft palate. The more frightening side effects are personal. For example, it takes about 14 weeks of slowly integrating Lamotrigine to reach full dosage, which is  150 milligrams twice a day. This slow integration is standard now in the hopes of mitigating the rare side effects, which manifest first as a rash, then developing into exterior burns, eventually becoming fatal. Not only is the drug rather invasive, it is also rather intrusive. No drugs, supplements, or even vitamins can be taken without a doctor's consent while a person is on Lamotrigine. I also can't stop Lamotrigine without doctor's approval. It decreases the effectiveness of my birth control making a second form of protection a necessity, which is more expensive. Yet, the real kicker, is that even with these negatives, the drug is still the safest and least risky of any on the market! So the real necessity is that I not have that creepy rash/burn/fatal allergic reaction so that I CAN take it.

Disclaimer: Lamotrigine is a very legitimate and safe drug on the whole with all potential side effects recorded and mitigated in a responsible way. My further feelings on Lamotrigine largely reflect my own coming-to-terms with taking it as well as my fear of drug dependency and facing this life change in general. This post is also written to portray my thought process, which includes fearful inflation of facts, so please do not base your opinion of Lamotrigine off of my reaction to needing to take it and how I, rather fearfully, interpreted the instruction I was given by my doctor.

I also can no longer drive. Every state has a post-seizure suspension time frame, the highest being a year. And with us about to move across the country, that means that Spencer will have to drive the entire 50 hours by himself. I also can't swim or do obviously dangerous things should I have a seizure till my medication is stabilized.

Now that you know the facts of my epilepsy, I will have another moment of emotional transparency. I am scared of medication period. I am grateful for medication and modern medicine, but drug dependency frightens me, and neurological drugs are dodgy in general. I am scared of deforming my children; will they be bitter if a defect is probably my fault? Will I be a burden on people because I have epilepsy? I feel guilty for the expense I am costing us. I feel guilty that Spencer will now have to drive the entire 50 hours alone. I am frustrated that I might have to take an invasive and intrusive medication for 2190 days for every two days I have a seizure (based on the trend) because my seizures and symptoms are epileptic. I feel grateful that I at least have a diagnosis but frustrated at having a diagnosis without knowing why it is happening. I feel a deep sense of irony at the fact that we found out a week before we moved thousands of miles away, leaving my doctor with little ability to help me. (He told me to get an MRI and gave me his card in case my new doctor should need to call him.) I feel torn between taking my medication because it is prescribed and not taking it because what if I have an allergic reaction on the road and can't find a hospital?

So yeah. I'm an epileptic. In all honesty, it's not so bad once I've set my fears and frustrations aside. My life is virtually the same, and once I get to Massachusetts I'll get a second opinion from my physician there and the necessary tests and will move forward with Lamotrigine with more confidence. The Lord will take care of us, and Spencer will be okay even if the drive is long. At least I know that I can still maintain my studies and grow in intelligence even if my brain decides to "explode in synapse frenzy" every so often. Who knows, maybe this identity-influencing trial will help someone someday. In the meantime, I'm going to buy all the benzocaine, become a diligent side-sleeper, and rock public transit. 

Chapter Three: In which I prepare for Harvard Divinity School and endeavor to live in the present

I was going to Harvard, so now I needed to prepare. I started by making a list of all the things I would need to do in the next six months to prepare and was swiftly overwhelmed. The list looked like this.

Harvard Long-Term To-Do List

• Secure housing
• Plan road trip
• De-junk apartment
• Pack up stuff we won't be taking
• Finish scrapbooks (four BYU scrapbooks and print rest of UK photos)
• Create GoFundMe page :/
• Tell family and friends
• Take acceptance photos
• Make a book list, including work of future professors
• Sell furniture and car by end of July?
• Acquire more freelance clients
• Find work (here and there)
• Budget

I called my family. After the phone calls had all been made and the skype sessions completed, I decided to tell everyone else. This included taking all the necessary pictures of my acceptance and excitement, and posting to Facebook. Check, check!
I also, nervously, began a GoFundMe campaign in order to mitigate some of the cost of attending graduate school at Harvard Divinity. Asking for money is always hard, especially when you're afraid of receiving any of three responses: a) you should work your way through school, that's what I did when I was your age (Yes, I am planning on it and am looking for work right now. It still won't cover it all.), b) have you looked into other financial aid options (and when you've said yes and detailed everything you've done, they don't help or talk to you about it again), and c) don't you think it is irresponsible to go to such an expensive school when you can't afford it and the schooling itself is, frankly, extra? Also, what is Spencer going to do out there, doesn't he need to go to graduate school? (No response . . . and no one can afford school anymore.) But, I posted the campaign anyway. And though I did get all of these responses to some extent or another, I also got a lot of support, which both stunned me and left me feeling very loved.

And then I made a book list. This is something that I'm really really good at. :) I began by writing down a few books each for four Harvard professors whose work I found particularly interesting. Then I compiled a list of other religious texts I'd been wanting to read for a while anyway. Then I wrote an additional list of any books on feminist issues or women's studies that I felt I should read since that is my secondary focus. (It helped that I was already a part of Emma Watson's "Our Shared Shelf" on Goodreads.) By the time I was done, I had a list of 40 to 50 books that pertained to religion, women's studies, or culture and literature.

So I set to reading. I read and I read and I read. My normal day took on a pseudo-structure looking something like this.

1. Wake up and exercise.
2. Look for housing for a few hours on the LDS Boston housing page, Harvard's on-campus housing page, Harvard's off-campus housing page, the housing Facebook page, Craigslist, and other random sites you find. 
3. Look for work in Provo for an hour or two, then shift to looking for work on Harvard Campus or in the nearby area for an hour or two.
4. Take a break and read 50 to 100 pages.
5. Oh yeah, eat and get ready for the day, and, if I'm lucky, go outside for a walk to the library.
6. Read some more.
7. Scrapbook!
8. Do something nice with Spencer or friends because I'm a human being and must act like one at some point.

My day-to-day would vary a bit. If I acquired a book, then three or four hours of my day went toward editing it till I was finished. Sometimes looking for housing turned into calling on prospective places or setting up an appointment with the landlord and my wonderful friend Erika, who would go look at places for me. Sometimes looking for work turned into a day spent on revamping my resume and cover letter to address the intricacies of the job I was applying for. And sometimes I couldn't take being turned down for another apartment again just because I couldn't fly out to meet the landlord and tour it myself (I mean, who can fly out to Boston 20 times in one summer?), so I would read the book I was on that day instead.

By the end of the summer, I had finished five scrapbooks and begun a sixth, edited four freelance projects (three of which were full books), read 17 books relating to Harvard prep and 42 books total for the year (lots and lots of light Japanese manga reading with the occasional novel to keep my sane), contacted dozens of landlords, applied to a slew of jobs, planned an eight-day road trip that would take 50 hours of driving (including sight-seeing along the way), taken dozens of filled boxes to the DI, etc, etc, etc. And! I even ate and socialized and lived a little. :)

So, in a moment of transparency, I will admit that preparing for school has been one of the most stressful things I've ever done. Being unemployed, except for the few freelance projects or random jobs Spencer and I have gotten has made things especially difficult. But by the same token, I was able to use all that time in reading, scrapbooking, planning, and applying for housing and work. Being rejected for apartment after apartment and then repeatedly having to explain to people that we were simply going to move forward in faith, even if that meant moving out with no place to go, was stressful and upsetting. But by the same token, Spencer and I were given the opportunity to walk by faith, an opportunity that requires a lot of trust but often yields a lot of miracles. Not knowing if we'd find work, not knowing if we'd be able to afford moving out to Boston or paying rent, or school in general, not knowing if my preparations would make me prepared enough, not knowing much of anything was, to say the least, stressful. And though the stress certainly had its repercussions, things eventually fell into place.

The hardest part of preparing for a future event like attending graduate school is living in the present. It's easy to say, "I wish we were just in Boston already," or feel like your living in limbo, waiting for the future to happen. But, as Spencer pointed out to me, while preparing is absolutely necessary, living is too. And as I look back over this "Harvard Prep" summer, we've had a lot of wonderful experiences that help balance everything out. We've played games, watched anime, and had adventures with friends. We've attended family reunions, seen Jason get baptized, and watched my Aunt and Uncle's kids for a week with great success! We've explored Canyonlands National Park with my siblings Brittney and Tanner and my wonderful friend Anne. We've begun playing through Final Fantasy VII together and attended a Scottish Festival. I donated my hair! And I've performed as an Irish dancer and written Brittney and Anne, who are now LDS missionaries, all summer.

So that is what preparing for school and endeavoring to live in the meantime looks like in my life. And while doing both is quite a balancing act, I think that overall Spencer and I did pretty well.

Chapter Two: In which I recount opening my first acceptance letter and how I decided to accept Harvard Divinity

I was accepted to Harvard . . . so now what? Well, for starters, I needed to decide if I was going to go. You already know that I'm going but here's how I decided anyway. The first letter I got back was from Claremont School of Theology. It came a week earlier than expected so when I pulled it out of the mail on a rainy day, I was shocked and suddenly nearly nauseated with nerves. I ran to the car where Spencer was waiting for me so we could go to the grocery store.

"It's here, Spencer! My first letter is here!"
"Which school?"
"Claremont School of Theology."
"Well then, open it."
"Okay." I go to open it. "No, I can't."
"You're going to have to sometime." At this point, Spencer is pulling out of the driveway.
"Okay." So I open it.
"What does it say?"
"I don't know, I can't look." I take some deep breaths and slowly inch out the letter. I see the corner of a word: Cong. *Scream.
"Holy Crap, Natalie!" Spencer yells, nearly slamming on the breaks. He neatly recovered—he's a pro.
"I got in! I did it! I got into graduate school!"

He started laughing. I started laughing. I was so relieved. I was mostly excited that I'd gotten into graduate school. I'd only applied to four schools. (I mean, it was an improvement from my undergrad application. I'd taken a BYU-or-bust approach and had only applied to BYU-Provo. I didn't really think through the fact that if I hadn't gotten in, I wouldn't have gone to school for another semester.) So from one application for undergraduate school to four for graduate school, I thought I was being quite cautious.

Note: Applying to graduate school is flipping expensive—another motivation for only applying to four schools.

Anyway, so I applied to Claremont Graduate University, Claremont School of Theology, Oxford University, and Harvard Divinity School. My logic was that the Claremont Schools were less competitive than the ivy leagues so I would use those as my backup. I would apply to both since the university favored masters students in their funding, but I still wanted to try for the theology school. I applied to Harvard Divinity because Spencer had convinced me to not close my own doors. Harvard was my ideal school; it had everything I wanted from focuses on literature and religion to women's studies. I honestly didn't think I could get in. And Oxford was the dream school. I mostly wanted to attend Oxford for my Ph.D., but I figured I'd try since I was trying for Harvard.

So when I opened my acceptance to Claremont School of Theology, I was filled with relief. I had made it into one school, a perfectly good school, albeit my backup school. I was going to be a graduate student come what may from the other letters. But beyond that relief I didn't feel much.

Time passed. I received a preliminary letter from Oxford telling me that I was still in the running, but that I wouldn't be receiving any scholarships. (It was another two months before I received my actual acceptance letter. But hey, I was accepted, so my Ph.D. dreams at Oxford are alive and well.) I was accepted to Claremont University. And then the letter from Harvard came. That same nervous nauseous feeling from the first time blossomed in my stomach. I could barely breathe. I inched the letter out and saw the beginnings of a word: Cong. How I love that word fragment! I started to cry. Spencer, sitting on the other couch, beamed at me. "You did it, Natalie. You did it."

I can't really explain the feeling. With the Claremont schools, I'd felt relief. With Oxford, a sense of pride and future potential. But Harvard . . . with Harvard I felt peace, a sense of rightness and disbelief, gratitude and excitement. I had been accepted by Harvard. But would I accept them? I was nervous to make a decision too soon. I thought a long deliberation was in order. But I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was supposed to go. I was agitated all day. I kept telling Spencer, "I think Harvard is it. But I haven't even prayed about it. How will we afford it? Am I just letting my excitement get the better of me?"

I finally asked Spencer for a blessing that evening. It was definitely one of the most direct blessings I've ever received. In it, I received a lot of instruction on how to prepare, a lot of reassurance regarding finances and moving, and a very firm confirmation that Harvard was the right school. It's a funny thing because I already knew that Harvard was the right school. I'd felt peaceful upon being accepted and agitated when I thought of not accepting them all day long. So why had I required such a direct answer from God? Did I need an irrefutable answer when the questions came about my logic in going to do something "extra" that I couldn't even afford? Did I just not trust my own ability to feel the spirit? Was I embarrassed that I'd received an answer so quickly without the due deliberation I felt was necessary for such a monumental decision? I think each answer holds some truth for me. But even so, I had been given a beautiful blessing, and I'm grateful for it.

Harvard Divinity was right; the decision had been made. It was going to be like jumping into a "swift stream." So let the preparations begin!