Letters From An MBI Student – 9/4

Dear Family,

You were right. I’m not old here!

(I’m also not sick anymore. Ha! Take that, annoyingly miserable fevercold that I successfully passed off to four other girls on my floor. Sorrynotsorry. I have Kleenex if you want some.)

I know I worried about it before I came. Being old [not really], leaving my job [I love my new one], not relating to others [I talk too much for that to be a problem], and regressing in maturity [uh, jury’s still out].

I’ve met a whole conglomerate of “old” “new” students here on campus, and we’ve officially named ourselves. Thanks for the suggestions, Dad, but FYSA, we’re not all single and not all women, so “The Moody Hags” isn’t apropos. Or accurate. My double chin is disappearing, after all.

But, the rest of the suggestions were great (except the ones in Italian, which were only helpful if I took the time to translate them, and you know everyone here would butcher the pronunciation anyway. They still say “FUR-ARE-EE”!). “Aged and Confused” was the runner-up, with “Many Moods Ago” winning Honorable Mention. But we all liked “Over The Arch.” It made us feel “hip” with this generation (haha) and we’ve got a cool abbreviation: OTA. Plus no one is quite sure what it’s all about, until they see the dentures, hair dye, and complimentary walkers we’ll offer at our regular meeting.

Said regular meeting hasn’t happened yet, actually. Mostly because we’re too busy being students to worry about being old. Just like everyone else. We’re here because God’s called us, and that’s true for all of us at Moody. So suddenly, being old doesn’t actually change anything. It’s just a number, after all. (Unless you care about your spouse being older than you, because then it does affect the dating pool.)

So excuse me while I go study with a fellow OTA’er. We might laugh about the young freshmen who have yet to learn how to properly do laundry (yes, red + white = pink!), but it’s those same freshmen who we’ll pray with, eat with, laugh with, and do life with here at MBI. They’re not so bad, if you can get past the pink shirts.

Maybe missing you,

~Rae

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