Champagne powder

Before I came to Champaign and since I’ve been here, I’ve really struggled with wondering if I was in the right place or not. You know how sometimes you do something, or go somewhere, and you have this sense of peace and destiny within you? Well, I certainly did not feel that way coming here, but it seemed to be the sensible next step to take, so I took it.
I’ve been lonely, and freezing cold, and last week I caught a nasty bronchitis and I think it was Friday, I was stuck at school after class because my ride wasn’t going to leave until 9 that night, and I had green snot coming out of my nose, a sore throat, a stomach ache and nausea, and all I wanted to do was go home and go to bed. Too much homework. Outside it was -27 C and it was too cold to stand outside for a minute, let alone contemplate walking or biking the half-hour home. It was even too cold to wait for the bus, not that it would have come anyway.
I met some creepy guy who was hitting on me and offered me a ride home. Not on your life, buddy. I’d rather stay here. I fled to another study room and felt sorry-for-myself tears welling up in my eyes.
Saturday morning I slept in, no classes…. I studied hard all day with a kleenex-box by my side, and then I had to get out of the house and I decided to ride my bike (it had warmed up to -10) to the grocery store to pick up some groceries. There was also a second-hand clothing store nearby that I went in and bought a sweater from. On the ride back, bags draped over my handle-bars, steering carefully in the middle of the road so as not to hit too many icy patches, it occurred to me that with my orange toque and turquoise scarf and red mittens and fuzzy boots and all those bags, I looked kind of like a bag lady. I had to laugh at myself.
Sunday morning my neighbor Katie, who I met at the church, picked me up to go to the service. It was immensely encouraging and when she dropped me off I felt buoyed in spirit. I cleaned the bathroom, kitchen, all the floors in the house (since my landlord walks around with muddy boots), and read my bible, napped, and did laundry.
Something about being totally all alone in a quiet house, but in the late afternoon I had cabin fever. Outside it was snowing softly, those gentle flakes they call Champagne powder (Imagine that, Champagne in Champaign…), the kind of flakes that fall, not blow, and settle on top of each other in layers so you can see the individual flakes. I got on my bike and set out, hoping to find some kind of coffee shop to sit in and read and write.
There is a half-dead strip mall a couple of kilometers from my house and as I approached, I had to laugh to myself because the trees around the parking lot still had their strings of Christmas lights glimmering softly in the snow. Who on earth leaves their Christmas lights on, a month after Christmas?
I went in and sat down, unthawing a bit. Then it hit me.
Back in August I was a little bit distressed about my future and I had sat in a park one day, talking to God. It probably sounds a little crazy, but I had a sort of vision. In my vision I saw myself in a city in America- in front of an outdoor Christmas tree decorated in lights. Heather, you’re in the right place. And then in the vision I was standing in the lobby of a huge church- a horseshoe shaped lobby, wide doors going into the sanctuary, vaulted ceilings. There were people milling everywhere and they were friendly and warm. Heather, sink yourself into that church. Don’t be afraid of how many people are there, how different it is from what you are used to.
Suddenly I was sitting there looking out the window at the Champagne powder coming down, and I knew in my heart, I’m in the right place. At the right time.
Why am I here? I’m not really sure some days. To study and learn and pass some ridiculously hard exam. To meet some people and perhaps share God’s love with them. To hear God speak to me. Maybe all that and more. But the important thing, is that I’m here, and I'm not here alone.