Witness Volleyball

Seeing as how this is likely my last semester at Murray State and how I'm more or less finished with a Master's Degree, I've decided to reward all of my hard work (BS Chemistry in 4 years, MS Occupational Safety and Health Industrial Hygiene, 1.5-2 years, been taking college courses since 1995 (I'm 24, do the math)) with some fun classes: social dance and volleyball.

Volleyball class is a nice change of pace because I get to move around a lot and beat the hell out of a little white ball. I was a pretty decent player (nothing hits the ground, effin hard serves) and probably would have played all four years of high school had I not loathed the coaches and had such a number done on my body by diving into the ground every day after school for 2 hours five months out of the year. It's my first class of the day on Mondays and Wednesdays, so I get to just roll out of bed and toss on some sweats for class. It's a good way to get the blood pumping and I've been feeling better having more physical activity.

Because even the teacher for the class told us that "Volleyball is the easiest class at Murray State. If you show up, you will get an A. You do not have to be good, you do not have to even play. All you need to do to get an A in this class is show up. If you do not want to play, go sit on the bleachers. If you are on the bleachers everyday, you will get your A. If you do want to play, come wearing appropriate clothing every day we have class to get your A..."
Well, you get the picture. My class if filled with an interesting amalgam of individuals. And to make things more interesting, the fellow that is supposed to be teaching the class has been injured, so the Chinese assistant coach is our teacher. I like the fellow, but english is not his forte, and people in the class will say things like "omigawd! i don't understand him!" but see, I do understand him because if I can understand Dahren Che at SIUC telling me how to code C++ in broken english, I can understand the delightful Coach P telling me how to hit a ball.

This morning, while practicing spiking, I'm standing in line and I notice the girl next to me smiling. I smile back, as I generally do when others smile at me (though I'm careful to not make eye contact because that could be taken as a sign of aggression and 10 am is too early for serious confrontation). We exchange names, pleasantries, and then...she asks me if I like Jesus.

Well, at least it was an easy question. Asking someone if they like Jesus (especially around here) is like asking a person if they'd like a drink of water after they've been digging ditches for hours. It's like asking a fat kid if he'd like another scoop of ice cream. It's like asking me if I'd like another white russian... So I tell her that "Yes, I do like Jesus." She smiles at me more. Then, she asks me "Have you ever experienced worship with the Christ Ambassadors?" What? Could this be? "No, I have my own church." "Which one is that?" I name drop a church, feeling uncomfortable because I'm the type of person that would rather tell a stranger about the contents of my underwear drawer than tell a stranger about my faith. She presses further. "I can't believe that you're a graduate student and you've never worshipped with us." I use the old standby..."Well, I have my own place." We stand there in silence, the line is moving and soon I'll be too busy spiking a volleyball to talk about such things.

Then she asks me, "Do you feel your faith has helped you in getting through college?" I cannot believe this-she's trying to administer a survey to me in the middle of class.
"Well, Jesus does write most of my papers..." My reply is met with silence and I realize that perhaps I should say something else to make it less apparent that I'm in dire need of 'saving.' "Actually, the fact that I've gotten this far in school is a miracle in iteself, so yes."

And with that, I tossed the volleyball to Coach P and hit that ball with all my might, visions of volleyball glory dancing through my head.