It's been a strange week and a half. Back to the grind of papers, choir rehearsals, plowing through several books a week and typing up ACU Today EXperiences. (That's alumni news, for you non-ACU readers.) Oxford felt like a week out of time. I didn't do homework. I didn't stress about being anywhere exactly on time. I didn't worry about bills or housecleaning or commitments or even the way my hair looked. Instead, I walked several miles a day. I browsed in bookshops for hours. I sat and drank tea and listened to Fernando Ortega with Jacque and Janine. I took a bitterly cold walk across a meadow with four people I love. I had lunch with one of my favourite pastors in the world. I drank in the centuries-old, history-steeped, yet ever-changing air of my favourite place on earth.

Still don't know what I'm up to after graduation. (My newly resurrected dream is to go back and work at St. Aldate's Church for a year.) It's frightening, and more than a little unnerving (especially as I get asked about it several times a day). I know there's something out there for me to do. Just don't know what it is yet.