Note: I'm aware of the tense change between this page and the last. I wrote the last page just before I left for yesterday's bible study. I'll figure out how to fix it once I finish this piece (assuming I do... my blog is full of unfinished pieces). 

Sunday evening, I’d left a little early to pick up a couple cases of Sprite for the gathering, and gave myself plenty of time to drive through the pouring rain to my destination. I didn’t have to go far, given that Willow Springs bordered Ken Caryl Valley and I already knew it fairly well. Still, I was very nervous, and not just because I could hardly see through the rain as I drove around “Coyote Curve” (AKA the place where I smoked a coyote in the dark after it ran out in front of my Xterra). 

Frankly, I didn’t know what to expect. I’d never been to Mission Hills church; hell, I hadn’t even heard of it until my mom sent me some information about the various small group bible studies they ran. It took me two emails with the coordinator of the Sunday college group to get into the group text, where the address of that evening’s bible study wasn’t revealed until just a few hours before it started. I expected the Sunday group to meet at the Mission Hills church, and was shocked (and a little worried) to find out that the college Bible study group happened at someone’s house. 

I worried more when I arrived at the house almost twenty minutes early, and appeared to be the first guest to arrive. I wasn’t sure where to park at first, so I drove around the area to make sure there were no “NO PARKING” signs anywhere, and finally came around the block again and decided to park off the side of the road. As soon as I threw the Xterra into park, I looked up and, directly ahead of me just behind a barbed-wire fence were the giant red rocks I’d immaturely dubbed “God’s Ass”. And, just as I stepped out of the Xterra, careful not to let the door slam on me, two mule deer bucks came trotting past me on the street, holding their head and ears high like they owned the place. 

They didn’t even bat me an ear as I let the door shut behind myself and headed to the passenger side to retrieve the Sprite and my New Living Translation Bible. A Bible my private Christian school once told me was “a perversion of Scripture” (I wish I was joking). While the NLT isn’t my favorite translation of Scripture, it’s still a hell of a lot more readable and accurate than the original King James Version that school swore was the “Gold Standard” of Bible translations. But… I digress. 

I set the cases of Sprite down onto the hood of the Xterra and went back for my bible, glancing momentarily at the house that held my Bible study. The lights were on and I saw movement behind one of the huge panes of frosted glass by the front door. But, I was honestly scared to approach that house. Of course, my fear was irrational, but it was still palpable. I’d never been comfortable knocking on even my friends’ and neighbors’ front doors, let alone walking up to a stranger’s place and asking to be let in. 

To give myself some room to calm down, I sat down in the passenger seat and flipped to 1 Thessalonians, which was the focus of that evening’s Bible study, and marked it with a turkey feather. As I did this, I heard a door open and shut and saw an older woman approaching my Xterra from the house I was afraid to approach. 

I felt a flash of fear shoot through me as I jumped to my feet and tried to “act normal”, not knowing who this strange lady was, or what she wanted. In fact, I was afraid I was about to get yelled at for parking in the ditch, flattening grass and wildflowers in the process. 

“You must be Maya!” she announced herself as she approached the front of my Xterra, “Welcome! Welcome!”

“Oh… yes!” I stuttered, taken a little aback, “I hope I parked okay.”

“Oh, you did perfect!” the woman answered as I reached out to shake her hand. Instead, however, she greeted me with a side-hug. 

“I brought Sprite.” I said, smiling, “I wasn’t sure what, if anything, to bring.”

“Aw, thank you. You didn't have to. The church provides all of the meals and snacks.” the woman smiled back as she reached to carry both cases, “I’m Gretchen, by the way. My daughter and my husband are inside the house. Come on in! Everyone else should arrive shortly!”

“I am a little early…” I said. 

“And that’s great! We love having company over.” Gretchen interrupted me, "I've been hosting this summer group for a few years now, and it's truly wonderful. If you like going deep into Scripture and asking lots of questions, you'll enjoy this study."

"Oh, that's perfect!" I replied as I followed Gretchen through her massive front door, which was guarded by a stone lion statue. Inside, a very, very old Golden Retriever trotted up to me, barking. 

"This is Gracie." Gretchen explained, "She's almost fifteen years old. Her appearance is a little... zombie-ish... but she's not in any pain and can still see and hear. Be careful though. If you're not looking, she'll try to steal your food off your plate. Oh, and she always demands attention."

Right as Gretchen said that, Gracie growled at me, demanding I pet her with both hands. 

"I'll put Gracie in her room when more people arrive, so we can focus on dinner and our studies without her growling for attention." Gretchen continued. 

"I have a miniature Goldendoodle and a cavapoo, so I understand Gracie's neediness." I laughed as I knelt down to Gracie's level to scratch her sides with both hands. 

"I can tell..." Gretchen began, "Some people- usually those who don't have dogs at home- are scared of Gracie because she growls and barks so much. But, dog owners- especially those with needy dogs- know exactly what she wants. Do your dogs growl for attention, too?

"My goldendoodle does." I said, "Toby, on the other hand, just gets in my face and paws at me till I give him attention."