Our Twisted Love Story, Part 3

Please read parts one and two before this one, if you haven’t.

I was minding my own business in the CSF House, where I occasionally attended Thursday night services, when I found it - the way to get back to Spain. They had a simple table, three-fold posters, and pamphlets. I picked one up and read “Where We Work.” I was quite surprised to see Spain listed among such countries as Ivory Coast, Thailand, and Kenya. Spain, a place for missions work? I was taken aback, yet intrigued. I vowed to research more. And so I did, scouring the websites until my eyes glazed from my suddenly urgent desire to grab hold of this opportunity, one I’d never considered remotely plausible. As I filled out the laborious application, I got more and more excited, anticipating the day when I would once again step on a plane headed for the continent.

As I prepared to embark that Fall (of 2010), life continued as normal – work, studying, and preparing for graduation. I still had trouble believing that I was old enough to graduate from college. Where had the time gone? Of course, I couldn’t forget to take one last epic spring break trip with Hilary … to Myrtle Beach, SC! We celebrated St. Patrick’s day in a totally authentic Irish Pub (sarcasm, obviously) with a bunch of randoms, but it was the best St. Patrick’s day I’ve ever had! We did manage to graduate, too.

That summer was the last one of my college years. I spent it, naturally, in Bloomington, working at the Chocolate Moose and a local daycare. It truly was carefree and fun.

My other BFF got married that summer, and it felt like the end of childhood, finally. There was no more of this “But I’m still a kid!” stuff. Unfortunately. Or fortunately, depending on how you look at it.

Even my friend from Melissa from study abroad visited me all the way from Utah! We made sangría and tortilla (Spanish omlette) as I anticipated my upcoming 8-hour flight to Madrid.

My friends and family gathered around to wish me luck as I embarked on this next big adventure … Salamanca, Spain! I only had to pack my bags, load them in the car, and head off to Chicago on September 11, 2009, the beginning of the rest of my life. Or so I thought…

To be continued…

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