Try not to be jealous...it's sinful.

Well, it has officially been the first week of my extended traveling season as a Corban Admissions Counselor. I have passed a Deer Peak Dr., a Corbin St., met a student named Corbin, and met someone who knew every admissions counselor from last year. Granted, it was Lindsey from George Fox, but still...It has been interesting nonetheless. Yes, it's long, but I think it might be worth it.

I hope not to make you envious (and therefore stumbling in sin) by this story, but I couldn't help share it. Picture Santa Barbara, CA on a perfectly clear day, a slight breeze cheerfully brushing your face. (See? I told you to try not to be jealous.) So many of the elegant, stucco-style Southern California homes, roofed with rustic, curved brick-shingles planted their faces toward the waning sun, as it melted into the vast sea. They rose and wound all the way up the palm-covered hills. Even the streets, named with some sophisticated Hawaiian bamboo font, were lined with the giant leaf-heads.

And tucked in between the buildings near the wharf was a quaint little hotel: Hotel State Street. Even the name evokes some element of regality, coupled with a small-business ambiance. You enter the front door under the little blue awning bearing its name and head up to the counter to check in. The elderly man, dressed finely in his suit and tie, only adds to the quaintness of this little spot. And behind him you see several old-fashioned mailboxes, one for each room. Above you someone has taken great pains to decorate the ceiling with dozens of wonderfully crafted Origami fowl and flowers.

You receive your room key and head down an antique little hall, decorated with floral pictures, a large golden vase on a small table, and even an aged bookcase stacked fashionably with matching books, likely with decades of age and use bound up in them. You can picture it, can't you?

Well, there's a fragrance too. It's a familiar smell. Some might liken it to family, others to memories of illness. Few can't put their finger on it immediately. It's that aroma of second-hand smoke, and it flooded my nostrils with life (or should I say death) the moment I stepped into the hall. Oh well. Upon arrival to my little room I found, gratefully enough, that I would be spared that evening from its stench as my room was non-smoking. Of course, that counter-balanced my realization of the room itself. A description will suffice, though I wish I had the capabilities of revealing my photos for you at this time. No worries though. I'll be bringing them home!

My room was probably about 7 x 10 feet, just enough room for the more slender of our race to walk past the bed and the sink, which nearly touched, to reach the window. And you would certainly want to reach the window because this was an inner, middle room of a corridor with no air conditioning. You could actually feel a slight temperature change from the hall to the room. My "nightstand," if you will call it that, (though it was really supposed to be a table and actually had a chair wedged in there) was flush with the wall and the lip of the table overhung the bed so that if I slept close enough to the edge I could smash my face by rolling over. Yes, there was enough room for my laptop though. Well, that is if I removed the full-sized lamp and approximatley 8 magazines and brochures that were on it first.

I did feel safe though, because if there was a fire I would not have had to suffer through the flames. I would have been taken instantly and without pain. Partially because the temperature in my room was only a few degrees cooler than a conflagration would have been and also because I would never have seen it coming, considering that the smoke alarm was removed and the helpless wires were left dangling uselessly from their bare portal in the wall.

What spare room there might have been was taken up by an entertainment case which held the TV and contained a few drawers. The closet was wide enough for me to walk into...sideways, and of course, no iron. So I "recycled, reduced, reused" my previous wardrobe for another day as it was the only thing I could wear that wasn't wrinkled from traveling in a crammed bag.

"But wait," you say. "You haven't mentioned the bathroom!" Ah, yes. Well, my friends, that's because my room did not contain a bathroom. Oh don't feel too bad. I had one to use at my leisure. Just down the hall in fact. Actually, I must say I was quite blessed because I was only a couple of doors away and the clerk at the front assured me that I probably wouldn't have trouble getting into the shower when I needed to because there weren't too many other guests there (I wonder why). And even if there were, I did have the option of heading back out to the lobby to drag my dragging body up the stairs in hopes of using that one if indeed it was available.

Yes, there's nothing quite like staying in Santa Barbara.

Oh, and I almost forgot! Toward the middle of my school visits that day I began to feel a little...not myself. I'm still not sure whether it was heat exhaustion, mild food poisoning, or a quick little flu bug, but I'm leaning toward one of the latter ones. It wasn't too bad though. I only had a fever in 90 degree weather, driving 2-3 hours on the freeway in Southern California.

Well, 2-3 hours in a good clean sweep, but the only good clean sweep that I was getting was from my digestive system. I had to stop a couple of different times to answer "the call of nature" as something wasn't settling right with me (which is why I leave food poisoning in as an option). I was grateful to get there for the college fair anyhow.

Then again, I did get there late, considering I had forgotten that particular map and the site was one of the most majestically (and mysteriously) located sites I have seen yet, nestled deep in the lush brush of sweet Santa Barbara. I was very glad to be there so I could sit down (after sitting for so many hours straight I was tired) and cool off. Well, what I mean is envision cooling off. There was about .1038 ounces of air circulation in the gym where we were located and, since I arrived late, I was nestled nicely in the back corner a safe distance from the doorway.

Yes, there's nothing quite like a trip to Santa Barbara.

Especially when it's dark after you leave a college fair and you get turned around trying to get off the precipice which you are perched on that has about seven different side road that all look like the main road. But I got to the luxurious Hotel State Street in under an hour which was great.

In all seriousness, though, I was so grateful to have the reminder and encouragement (thanks Sarah E.) that God would be my strength through it all. I found myself trying to thank Him through it all, bumbling here and there, and truly praying that He would be my strength. Too, my morning that day was incredible as I did my devotions at Starbucks. I walked in to see a group of about 8-10 men all sitting together with their Bibles opened. Wow! That truly cheered my heart. Not only that, but after they all left one of them returned and gave me a business card for his church with his phone number on it and told me to call if I needed prayer for anything.

It was truly a blessing to start the day off that way and then to learn even more to depend on God through frustrations, weaknesses, illness, and a wee bit of selfishness. How great is our God! May we all remember to let Him continue always to be our Strength. -Ps. 27