Life of Pride
It's amazing how much being tired affects my ability to think, and how much my ability to think touches on every other part of me. The entire world is skewed darker when I am exhausted. It is easy to forget what an incredible day this has been. Omnia gloria soli Deo.
I overslept this morning, the day of my GRE, and woke up at 7:09 instead of 6:30. Thus, I lost my quiet time. It felt like a disaster, on this day of all days, when I felt utterly incompetent to get through. This morning I needed to proofread four students' papers for class and clean for the afternoon's white-glove dorm room inspection - in an hour. It was impossible. I almost skipped chapel so that I would have an extra hour. Thank God, I didn't. It was just what I needed.
I picked up my room and desk in half an hour and then proofed the two papers for the first class. I went to the first class. Then I decided, dash it all, I'll go to chapel anyway. It let out a few minutes early. I had fifteen minutes to proof the other two papers for the next class. After it was over, I skipped lunch and spent another half an hour scrubbing parts of my room that needed it. Then I quickly endorsed two checks I had been saving, because I needed cash in order to use the toll road. I didn't have enough time to take the other road.
In my car, I noticed I only had 1/5 of a tank of gas. I intended to fill it up before I tried the hour-long drive to the testing center, but the man at the bank wanted to talk. By the time I had my cash, I didn't have time to get gas. I figured I would just drive and trust that I had enough. Of course, I wasn't at all sure I would end up in the right place, since I had never spent much time driving in Fairfax. So there I was, heading out for an hour-long drive to an unknown location with 1/5 a tank of gas. Once there, if I arrived, I was planning to take a two-and-a-half-hour test in the middle of an involuntary fast. If ever I've been empty and incapable on every front, it was then.
To make a long story short, I arrived at the testing center with five minutes to spare for my 2:30 appointment. With my head absolutely empty and confused, I wallowed through the test. I can't remember the last time I felt that tired; I truly thought I might faint. When I was done and the computer showed me the scores on my multiple choice sections, I was seriously expecting numbers in the 600s (with a maximum possible of 800). Instead, I saw "Verbal: 800. Quantitative: 790." Whoa!
When I staggered out and fed Thing at the gas station, I discovered that he had only half a gallon of gas left in his tank.
Now, after a three-hour play rehearsal, I have a paper to write. I think I'm going to bed. Tomorrow is another day.
Here I sit in Market Street Coffee, downloading a TV show, reading comments to my blog, studying for History of Islam, and typing a blog post. I reflect that my life is the most real right now that it has ever been. This semester at school I am more free than I have ever been. How odd that it should be this way when I have given away more of my personal desire for power than I ever have before. Somehow my lack of grasping has left me free to be me.
So who am I? I am silly and funny, and I like to dance and juggle. I write. I organize. I love God passionately. I love my family, friends, and school. I'm also intelligent, which can be a problem, because I'm used to being right. It makes it hard to recognize when I am not. Therefore, I must assume by default that I could be wrong and go from there.
What else? I like techno and even some hip-hop. I want to learn to surf and ski. I want to see the Aurora Borealis and many other places in this world that God has created. I desire and pray desperately for unity in the body of Christ. I am sad bone-deep for people with hurting eyes.
Music makes me cry and laugh. I wish I was better at it. There isn't enough music in me to match how I feel about God and life.
I am very confident about most things, but only because they don't matter. People matter, and I am so aware of how I can and do fail people every day. Especially family, the ones who know me best and who are hardest to love properly. I am completely insufficient in love.
Good things will happen in my life this year. I know it.
So I'm smart. So what?
"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing."
We are in this world to love and serve, not to
know. The greatest commandment, which encompasses all the rest, is to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, body, and strength - and our neighbor as ourself.
How could I have missed this for so long? For years I prayed daily for wisdom. Not until a few months ago did I realize how incomplete that prayer was by itself. Love is the answer. It carries with it all the rest.
Sometimes it doesn't matter who is right. Sometimes love decrees service through silence.
It's hard for me to realize that it's been more than two weeks since I posted to my blog. I know the reason; my little laptop, Beauty, has been unable to connect to the campus network. As of last night, the tech people did something to it, so that it is now online. I'm not sure I trust it. I expect it to stop working at any moment. But meanwhile, I am enjoying my connectivity.
Classes are great. I only have four of them, although I supposedly am signed up for six credits of independent study as well. As of yet, I have not found time for anything other than classwork, however, so I am going to drop the three independent history credits. I'll keep the lit ones, since I normally write stories on my own time anyway. Might as well earn credit for them.
I am the Producer for the Eden Troupe play,
Cyrano de Bergerac, this fall. That has so far taken up the most of my time, through finding out information for Christy and through the various problems we have needed to work through with each other. I am so grateful for Christy, and I am beyond thankful to God for taking care of us. We would be nowhere without Him, and I mean that in absolute truth. If Christy and I were not Christians, after the last few weeks we would probably no longer be friends. As it is, we are better friends than ever.
I am also getting more involved in church. Beginning two weeks from now, I will get to teach the preschool Sunday School class in the evenings. Also, we college students are going to be able to participate in special music, which makes me happy. I might actually be organizing that. As a sidenote, it's really curious how one can drift into doing things like that so gradually; five years ago I knew absolutely nothing about music.
These last few weeks have been filled with struggles, heartache, and joy. It's the sort of stuff that a person cannot post to her blog, but in summary, I've been making decisions. God willing, I will be attending a graduate school next year, with the purpose of working towards a Ph.D. in American colonial history. I am especially looking at the University of Virginia. Again, it is curious how all the pieces of the last several years fit into this decision. Here at PHC I have been checked again and again from my desire to study ancient history. Instead, everything has prepared me to see the value of American history. Perhaps God has been trying to tell me something.
I think I have at last grown up this past year.
