Oh. My. Goodness.

You run into the craziest things out here on the field. It's now the beginning of week three on the book field. To date, Thea has experienced many firsts:

1) first time to see a rattlesnake up close and personal
2) first sighting of a dead armadillo--roadkill makes me laugh
3) first summer where being attacked by egotistical chihuahuas has become a daily norm
4) first summer where being covered in dog slobber is just to be expected
5) first time I've sweated this much for this many days consecutively--Tennessee is HOT
6) First time I've met so many remarkable and amazingly friendly people in such a short time span

There are certain days when I doubt my own sanity for undertaking this internship--and then there are moments when you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it's all worth it.

Two days ago, I pulled up in front of a house and went up to the door to speak with the matron...but I noticed her hands were shaking, so I asked her if she was alright...

Turns out, her twenty-year-old son had gone missing the night before...he'd never showed up at the friend's house where he was planning to camp out for the night, and since he'd disappeared, she and her daughter had been receiving strange phone calls saying that someone was trying to call them collect...only when they tried to put the call through, the line would just go dead every time.

Then there was the house where the grizzled old smoker who answered the door told me that his daughter had been killed in a bad accident when she was 12...he'd been driving...it was raining that night...they were on their way to church so she could sing in the children's choir...but they hydroplaned coming around a curve...and there was a car in the on-coming lane...and his daughter and her little friend didn't make it. He spent several weeks in intensive care, drifting in and out of consciousness. He told me that one time he woke up, and Jesus was standing at the foot of his bed...and his daughter and her friend were there, and they were laughing, and they told him that they loved him, and gave him flowers...and then they turned and disappeared into the wall.

Tears were streaming down my face as I listened to him talk...I can't imagine how much it would hurt to go through something like that. But at the same time, I'm so glad that God has given me the opportunity to listen to stories like that...it changes one's perspective on life...

Phew! It’s officially the end of the first week on the book field, and a crazy week it’s been! But honestly, in looking back, what’s most deeply impressed upon my mind is how much I have to be thankful for. Yeah, it’s tough work—I have a new respect for people who go around knocking on doors and talking to people all day long—but it’s also an opportunity to learn a heap of lovely things, to meet a ton of new people, and to develop some character in the process.

It’s a lot of long days, but I’m starting to adjust to the schedule…so much so that this morning, I couldn’t sleep in past 6:30 a.m. even though I tried. Heh. Mixed blessing? ;-)

We drove into Shelbyville last week not knowing what we were up against, or what we were going to be facing this summer, or where we were going to be staying, but God always comes through the most obviously in those moments when you haven’t got the least clue what’s supposed to happen and when. Awesome!

Long story short, we “just happened” upon a number of very helpful/hospitable people within the course of our first 48 hours in Shelbyville, and found an amazing host family who offered to give us the use of their spare bedroom for the summer—wow!
My roommate here in Shelbyville is named Hannah, and she’s the most “kipper” person I’ve ever met. Even though this week threw some pretty tricky curve balls her way, she’s been consistently upbeat, cheerful, funny, mature, and driven…and she has the world’s best laugh, which is rapidly endearing her to my heart.

This first week has been filled with the unexpected and slightly crazy, but I’m loving the randomness (most days). During the past six days, there have been a number of moments that kind of made me scratch my head and think, “Really?! What am I doing out here again?!”

For example, one time I stopped at a house and the owner wanted to show me his horses. (Tennessee walking horses are HUGE news out here—I’m rapidly discovering). And I like horses, and I like people, and I thought if I could make the person happy by seeing the horses, then hey, why not, right? So off we went to see the horses.
Only he didn’t mention to me that it was a 200+ acre pasture. So it took a little while to find those horses, but hey, we did find them in the end, so life was happy.
As we were heading back up to the house from the pasture, chatting about life and horse stuff, he suddenly stopped talking and reached out a warning hand.

“Get back,” he hissed at me, beckoning with his hand. I was already walking a few paces behind him, so I just obligingly backed up a few more, secretly wondering if I had onion breath or something…it was right about then that I looked down the path ahead of us and realized that there was a five foot rattlesnake three paces in front of us. Woohoo!

My trusty guide had a fun but rather fruitless time trying to kill the serpentine intruder…after which point the snake was just generally in a very bad mood…I’ve never heard so much rattling in all my life. It sounded like Godzilla’s baby had gotten its hands one of those rhythm shakers they use in Latina music, and I wondered silently to myself how fast a really ticked-off snake could crawl if they happened to be in the mood for a chase-and-bite session…heh.

That was a couple of days ago, tho. I’ve since adjusted to the realization that yes, there are indeed rattlesnakes here in Tennessee…I think the friendliness of the average Tennessean makes up for the presence of unfriendly reptilian inhabitants, though.

One of the most memorable things about this state is the dogs, to be honest. I’m not entirely sure why this is, but people in Tennessee appear to believe that if a dog is man’s best friend, then the more best friends you can get, the better. It’s not uncommon to go up to a house and be greeted by a pack of ten dogs, ranging in size from Chihuahua to Great Dane…it cracks me up every time.

Today I stopped in at a house with a puppy about the size of a small pony. He didn’t realize that his very large size and his over-the-top exuberance made him somewhat of a weapon of mass destruction—-he was cute in his innocence, but annoyingly obnoxious, and to keep him from interrupting our conversation, the gracious lady with whom I was visiting invited me inside to sit in the living room. I didn’t want to dirty her floor, though, so I slipped my sandals off and left them outside the door.

I remember thinking at the time, “I wonder if this is a good idea?”
Heh. It wasn’t. When I came back, I found...one sandal. And one very happy dog. The other sandal is, at this moment, still MIA.

And that’s why I spent a few hours this afternoon knocking on people’s houses with bare feet…got some weird looks out of it, but when I explained what had happened, they always were nice enough to laugh with me…