Who I Am (16 page)

Then to my surprise they all three showed up at my door tonight (it was about nine) and kidnapped me and took me out for ice cream. (They bought me a triple-decker with hot fudge and caramel sauce.) And there we all sat, talking and crying, and I could tell they were all almost as unhappy as I was that I wouldn't be going. And even though it still hurts deep down inside, I guess I feel just a little bit better. Still, it's like I've been hit by a truck or something. I mean, I feel so totally disoriented now. Like I had this great plan and then poof–it all just disappears! I keep telling myself that God has a plan for me, and that there's a reason for this disappointment, but to be honest I can't see it.

When I got home, Dad was still up reading the paper, and he asked me if I'd sent in my application to the university.

“Well, I didn't really think I'd be going…”

He cleared his throat. “But, Catie, I told you last winter that you needed to get it in. Right here in the paper is an article about how enrollment is higher than ever right now, and it's not that easy to get in.”

I groaned and sank down into the chair across from
him. “Maybe this means I'm supposed to go work in Mexico, Dad. I mean, that's what I originally wanted to do anyway.”

He sighed loudly. “But I thought you said the people at that missions conference said you needed to get your college degree first.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do now?”

“Probably get your application in to the university. And to be safe, I guess you'd better apply to the community college too.”

I leaned back into the chair and closed my eyes, suddenly feeling totally worn out by all of this–college, life, decisions, everything. “I just wish I could be a little girl again.”

Then Dad came over and put his arm around my shoulder. “You'll always be my little girl, Catie.”

I had to smile at that. “Thanks, Dad.”

It's times like tonight that I feel sorry for girls who don't have a dad to say something like that to them. But then I have to remind myself that God is their Daddy. And I know He's my Daddy too. But right now I'm just not too sure what my heavenly Daddy is up to.

Well, I spent the afternoon filling out applications for both the university and the community college. And although
it's just totally depressing to think I may end up at the community college–I mean, that's the place NO ONE wants to go, the place that kids make fun of at school–I'm trying to believe God has a reason for all this. And even if I have to go there (for a semester or two until I can transfer), I'll just have to make the best of it.

I suppose it helped me to hear Tony's sermon today. (I wondered if my mom didn't tell Steph what was up, and she told Tony, and… There I go thinking the entire universe revolves around ME again!) No, it was probably just one of God's magnificent coinky-dinks that Tony preached about “humbling yourself beneath God's mighty hand, so that in due time He could exalt you,…” And I have to admit that I can't think of anything quite as humbling as Caitlin O'Conner (honor student) being forced to attend community college with all those less fortunate people (and lots of older, down-and-outer sorts go there too).

Now, I'm sure that sounds really superior and proud (but a diary is so forgiving), and it's the humiliating truth. And maybe that's just the reason God could be sending me there (to knock me down a peg or two). Or maybe He has something even better in mind. Maybe He'll use me to touch some lives–people who are really struggling.

I'm suddenly reminded of the Mexican kids at the dump and how I had been so appalled by them at first. I mean, I didn't even want to touch them or have them touch me. And then what happened? I got so attached to them that I didn't want to leave. I think about them
and pray for them and work to make things better,… So, anyway, who knows? Maybe this is just the way I am. I'm all opposed to something, and then it turns out to be the best thing ever. Well, I'm really trying to see it that way. Time will tell though.

Well, it's time
for me to come completely clean about all this college biz. And I hope as I begin to write stuff down it'll all start to make more sense. Because when I first realized that the private Christian college was out of the question, I naturally assumed I'd be going to the state university (which would thrill my parents but not me particularly).

My primary concern was: That's where Josh goes to school. Now, on one hand, that should make me totally happy. Right? Wrong. (Okay, it does make me a little bit happy.) But mostly it just makes me pretty worried. Why? Okay, here's the tough part… It's because I don't entirely trust myself. There, I've said it. Phew. It's just that I'm worried that my feelings for Josh are intense enough that if he and I were living on the same campus (with a whole lot less supervision than at home)–who knows? I mean, it seems likely that we might start seeing each
other, maybe regularly. (Oh, we probably wouldn't call it dating, but then what would we call it?) And even though we both say we've against getting seriously involved–well, what if we did? And what if things got too hot and heavy and I was tempted to, well, say, break my vow to God? Oh, this is almost too humiliating to actually write about–but at the same time, I think it's a moment of truth for me. Because the fact is, this whole thing worries me. I worry me. And Josh worries me. And yet at the same time I honestly can't imagine anything more fun that being on campus and hanging with Josh. Pretty sad, isn't it? Not to mention confusing. I mean, I'm starting to feel like the “double-minded man” that the Bible describes as a wave–just being tossed all over the place by the wind. And I think I'm starting to feel seasick! Look out! Woman overboard!”

Sheesh, I'm not even sure if I know what I'm talking about just now. I guess the main thing is I feel frustrated and confused about my future. And I'm thinking why would God want to put me in this position? I mean, that's one of the main reasons I wanted to go to the Christian college in the first place–it sounded so safe and secure–a good place for someone like me. And so for all of the reasons I've just stated, I suppose I'm secretly hoping I'll get stuck at the dumb community college next year. Even if it does sound totally depressing. And naturally, I can't let my parents know about this. So for their sakes, I'm pretending that I hope to get into State (which makes me feel like a hypocrite). Because deep down, I
suspect I'll be better off closer to home. Not that
that
makes me feel any better. Mostly I feel like a flaky college reject who doesn't even know her own heart or where she wants to be next year. I just feel kind a mixed up and lost today.

We had a really great planning meeting today for the cultural fair. Chloe came with me, and while she got a couple of strange looks (from some of the older, more conservative members), everyone was generally nice to her. Our committee has grown to about thirty people (with numerous other churches sending representatives). And fortunately for me, Martha has offered to
cochair the group (which is a huge relief since she's really good at getting people to listen and stay on the subject).

Anyway, things really seem to be falling into place there, and despite that one particular church's opposition, we've managed to secure the park for our event. The opposing church had written a letter to the city saying that it was wrong for a “church function to be held in a public place.” But apparently the city was unimpressed by their letter, and so it's all set.

Already offers of donations from local merchants have been coming in, and I'm hoping that we'll really raise a lot of money for the Mexican kids. One of the first things I did was to design posters and flyers (describing the fund-raising event as well as where the proceeds were going). My dad helped (since he's the advertising pro) and the company I work for threw in all the materials and printing. I shared the posters and flyers with everyone at the meeting tonight, and they were all pretty impressed with the quality. Which, I must admit, made me feel good. And while I know I should focus on pleasing God (not people), it's still pretty nice when someone appreciates your work. And I think it's good timing too (considering my recent identity crisis). Perhaps God just wanted to use this to encourage me. Anyway, I'm feeling a little better.

But here's what was really cool about tonight. As I drove Chloe home she was being kind of quiet, so I just jumped in and told her a little about how low I'd been
feeling about this whole college thing (well, not the part about her brother but how it had been getting me down some). Anyway, I think it really helped her to see me in a different way.

“And here I thought you had it so together,” she said as I pulled into her driveway.

I forced a laugh. “Hardly.”

“Well, it's not like I'm glad you've been miserable,” she said as she opened the door, “but it does give me hope.”

“Glad my pain and suffering can be of service.” I smiled.

“So did having God really make any difference then?”

“Oh yeah. I honestly don't know what I'd do without Him.”

She seemed to be considering this as she climbed from the car. Then she thanked me and headed toward the house, her hair still standing out in rebellious little spikes (kind of like a mad porcupine). And although her pants were still riding revealingly low, there was this slight spring in her step that I hadn't noticed the previous time. And I prayed for her as I drove home.

Then I sat down at my computer and e-mailed Josh about her, reminding him to pray. And this time I decided to tell him that there was just the slightest chance I'd be coming to the university in the fall. I only briefly described my disappointment about not getting to go to the Christian college (I'm really trying to move on). And mostly I just wanted to hear his reaction to the possibility of us attending the same school next year. Not that he
should really care that much one way or the other. But I guess I'm just curious.

I was eating lunch with Anna and Joel today (Beanie and Jenny were at another table that was already full) when Natala came and flopped down right beside me, which was fine with me (although somewhat surprising since she makes no secret of her general dislike of “crackers” as she calls us of paler skin tone). So anyway I turned and smiled and said, “Hey.”

She gave me what I might best describe as a withering look (I think Jane Austen uses that description sometimes). Then she said, “What're you doing over here polluting our table?”

“Oh, lay off, Natala,” said Joel (which I appreciated).

And feeling emboldened by his defense, I decided to speak up. “Natala, why do you always seem to hate me so much?”

“Honey, I don't hate you,” she said condescendingly. “I don't even know you. And fact is, I don't want to know you. I just wish you'd stay where you belong.”

“Where do you think I belong?”

She nodded over to a predominately white table. “With your own kind.”

Now Anna jumped in. “You know, Natala, it's people like you who keep things just the way the are.”

“People like me?” Natala exploded. “It's people like your
little white cracker friend here–people who've kept us in our place for years–people who wipe their big white feet on us–they're the ones that keep us back and hold us down–”

“Natala, you don't even know what you're talking about,” said Joel. “Can't you hear yourself? You're making a personal case over a really bad generalization and then taking out all your aggressions on Caitlin. It's not only stupid, it's wrong.”

“Watch who you be calling stupid, stupid!” Right then Natala reminded me of an angry cat with her ears back and her claws out.

“Natala,” I tried to use a calm voice. “I just wish you could chill long enough to see if we couldn't become friends.”

“You and me?” she asked, and her face looked like I'd just suggested she should go eat dirt or something. “Listen, girl, the day you and me become friends is the day I see pigs fly.”

I just shook my head, finished my lunch, and left. I'm not sure why, but something about what she said had cut right through me. I mean, I realized that her words were untrue, but just the fact that she felt compelled to speak them made me really sad. Like I was wondering, how did we get to this place? Why can't the divisions between everyone just dry up and blow away? I suppose I was still thinking these things as I stood in front of the sink slowly washing my hands. But when I looked up into the mirror, I suddenly realized that Natala was standing
next to me (not close but a couple feet away), and she was just staring at me as if trying to size me up.

She squeezed her brows together then finally spoke. “You mean what you're saying in there, back at the lunch table?”

I studied her for a moment, unsure as to her motives (and even wondering if she was considering beating me up since it was only the two of us in the bathroom just then). “Yeah, Natala, I meant what I said. I just wish you'd give me a chance. Maybe you'd find out that we're really not that different after all.”