I'm two classes down; the MA (in Religion, Science and Ethics: Philosophical Approaches) has officially begun. I was really scared before yesterday's 9am start (typical for my only morning class to be on a Monday!) worried that the tutor was going to put me on the spot with a tell me everything-you-know-type question. It was OK, but I must say slightly overshadowed by today's class on death. Yep that's right, I know we don't normally like to talk about it, but we have a whole course on questioning life and death and in preparation, I had to read an article about the 'art of dying' and how suicide is morally praiseworthy. I'm still processing the argument, but it made for an interesting read...
On a lighter note, I am delighted to tell you that Ronald McDonald's dutch cousin Rutger Van Donald has devised a recipe for a STROOP WAFFLE McFlurry and it tastes *lekker. All the joy that I got from the icy dutch desert, however was lacking last night at the University of Leiden's rowing house. Having not made the most of student life at King's College London, I'd made an internal pre-commitment to my coming here, to try something new. For one reason or another, I felt drawn to rowing. All excited yesterday afternoon, I set off, in my sports clothes to the boat house (which is state of the art I tell you) only to have my excitement ripped out of me and resculpted into humiliation. I didn't even get within touching distance of a boat, let alone get out on the water; but what's more, everyone knew each other, were already experienced rowers, had already rowed that night and were freshly showered and in their snazzier attire, had booked in for dinner together (which I had not) and sat round eating, whilst my stomach rumbled and chatting energetically to everyone except me, who sat muted in the corner by my inability to speak a word of dutch, (other than the aforesaid 'lekker' - but then food adjectives are of critical importance in any language). And yet, I'm going back tomorrow morning at 8.30am for another round of alienation, and if I'm lucky a spot of rowing too!
I will now attend to the object of your consideration. In early August, two weeks before I was due to move to Holland, I realised that I had no money, which of course was more than a mere spanner in the works - more like a plan-thwarter. Before then, it wasn't that I was completely ignorant to my financial situation, but to tell you the truth I'm not really much of a forward-planner and am such a scatty character, forever biting off more than I can chew, that I rarely deal with the logistical details of my endeavours until they are fast upon me. Well now my minus bank balance was very much upon me and the anxiety and feeling of stupidity jumped on board for the ride. I felt like such a knob. I'd been telling people for months about my imminent voyage to Holland to start a church and that God had spoken to me etc etc. I'm sure there must have been, at times, rolled eyes when I'd not been looking. But here I was, with my university place procured, my accommodation arranged, my one-way ticket secured and the weight of my audience's expectation like a yolk upon my shoulders. What an utter twat I felt: naivety seeping from my every pore. All this talk of God providing and the great plans I proclaimed and hoped He had for me and yet all I had were empty pockets, an empty purse and empty plans. I rang my mum up in tears, sorry that it was going to be her who was to bail me out of this mess.
I'd already looked into a loan, but it turns out, one is only eligible for a graduate loan if a) you live in the country and b) you've been in full-time work for a while. I didn't satisfy either condition. I'd applied for various grants, but turns out religious studies is far less important than medicine or law and no one wants to invest in us humanities types. So then there was the possibility of getting a job when I arrived, but this wasn't a concrete plan, but a feather a possibility - would I even have the time and furthermore would a dutch employer really want to take on little old monolingual me?
I came home and sat down with my mum and we worked out that I was going to need 10,000 euros for the year and that the university wanted to know that I had this amount of money to support myself. Big fat ****! Mum had said earlier on the phone that her and dad would try and get the money together to lend to me, but I felt really uncomfortable by this prospect, as although they are in no way struggling to survive, my family do not have spare thousands knocking about. Face to face in Sainsbury's cafe one evening and mum drops on me that she has £5000 inheritance money for me from my granny. Well, I don't know what to do with this piece of information. Initially I think, 'why the hell not tell me this until now?', and my second ridiculous thought (since I don't have a man friend, let alone a fiancée) is 'but that could be part of my wedding fund' - I've been to 2 weddings this summer! However, I soon realise that I can't refuse to accept this money for the purpose, it's not like I have any other options. My parents haven't mentioned it until this point, because it was meant to be for a housing deposit, and I worry that I'm about to waste a large sum of money on an unfounded feeling about what God wants me to do and an extravagant graduate education. I still need the other bit of the cash though, which mum tells me she'll lend me. Not ideal to add to my student debt, but it seems to be the only course of action available to me.
A couple of days later, I share with Louisa that my mum has this £5000 to give me for the purposes of moving to Holland for the church plant and funding my life as I embark upon my MA. 'No way' she says, 'I've been praying for months about giving you some money to support you and only yesterday did I finally come to a figure that I felt at peace about...' TELL US LOUISA!!! 'I think God wants me to give you £5000 as well.' At this point, I don't know what to say or do. £5000... Blimey... That's a lot of money... £5000 + £5000 = £10,000 ... and I need 10,000 euros ... so this is actually slightly more than what I actually need ... and time is running out ... I will have the money I need ... maybe the ship needn't be abandoned ...
How is it that a fellow graduate peer has £5000 lying about to so generously offer a friend in need? I don't happen to have any rich friends. Louisa's dad doesn't have a title and she wasn't schooled in Eaton. But she was the girl in the car with me on March 24th 2007 with the broken jaw, and ended up receiving a large sum of compensation (for injuries that since the healing in July I told you about, she no longer has). Louisa interrupts my train of consciousness, 'Haha, you know it's funny Nay that I got the compensation three or more years after the accident and for some reason it came through in two separate installments. And the first one came through on your 21st birthday for £5000.' Good point, that is a bit funny, don't you think? What's weirder, is that I then get on the phone to my mum to check that she has transferred the money into my bank (both what she's giving me, as well as what she's agreed to lend me), turns out she's only put £5000 in. When I quiz her as to why, she tells me, that she somehow had a feeling that Louisa was going to give me £5000 and knew that there'd be no need for her to lend it to me.
Well I find this all quite balmy. Louisa gets online, whacks £5000 over on internet banking with the click of a button and the balance that the day before had read -£1600 now reads +£8400! I literally scream 'I've got £10000' (in my jubilation I don't deduct the stupid overdraft balance) whilst jumping round the house like an absolute loony. I'm not a naive twat, but an exuberant worshipper! You did have it in your plan all along Jesus. People had always told me that when God asks you to take a step of faith, He often leaves it to the last minute to provide the necessary finances, so that you will trust in Him and not your own resources. Two weeks before I go and I get that God really is good, really does provide and mum is apparently a pyschic.
* the dutch word for damn tasty
FANTASTIC, completely fantastic :-D God is so good!!!!
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