Last week I told you about the monster of a mid-term I had and how I'm hoping that I did well. But even though that left me washed up I still had to pick up and move on to the next test. This is turning out to be an interesting final semester. It's like in the movies when 4 or more people gang up on the protagonist before an epic fight scene. The difference is that instead of it being choreographed and only one (at most 2) people swinging at a time everything seems to be coming my way. It's like being smothered in work. All I can do is work and hold my breath for the good results.
At times I wish that school wasn't so much - so much work, so many people with issues, so much more than just credit hours - and I could see past the sleep debt. For a really long time I've been trying to ease the stress and escape the stresses without doing something foolish like stop working. Christians say that each of us has a "cross to bear" (Luke 9:23), a "cup to drink" (Matthew 20:22) basically explaining the troubles and trials we have in this life. And we say things like "A crossless life leads to a crownless death" (i.e. if you don't suffer for Christ's sake you won't receive the reward). It's true - no blood, no victory. But the really interesting thing about being Christian is that the pressure seems to come two ways but leave in only one. Life's already hard being a human and being a Christian brings more difficulties (promised difficulties) and it's not like when it gets stressful you just pick the best thing in skinnies and unlatch the valve. Or smoke some weed and go green. The thing is, we don't escape the troubles of this life.
Too often we (as people in general) try to escape hard times by taking short cuts or tranquilizers with dangerous side effects without really thinking. When Christians present hope it's not the ticket out of stress. This week I realised this. I enjoyed this week but if you heard the stuff that happened you would be surprised (as I was) that I still enjoyed it (and I'm not masochistic - sticks and stones break my bones and chains and whips do also). I was sleep deprived, had a test and two papers to write, an assignment due this week and another test on the day I have to hand in the assignment. So yeah, I am strung out. But I realised that no matter how close the flames get I won't burn. So instead of looking for an escape, I let God be my escape.
How? Well I simply obey. I know what I need to do. I need to go to school and concentrate in class, come home, sit my butt down, put my head in some books for a few hours each night and go to bed...oh and eat food. Of course I know what work needs to be done - the weekly maths assignments and mids, etc - but focusing on the sheer work load doesn't get me anywhere. I work, trusting that God will give me the strength and sanity to finish well.
That was pretty much my week. Like I said it wasn't nearly a scotch free breeze but we made it. So I hope that when life gets terrible like mine, or even worse, we would slow down, breathe and continue. I haven't been to the end but I think it'll be worth it.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Where's The Hook For The Leviathan?
"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'" (Mary Anne Radmacher) Never have those words been relevant to any situation I've been in, yet they were the only ones I heard as I went to sleep on Tuesday and woke up on Wednesday. This time last year I was running, all cylinders firing, head strong into what was supposed to be a wonderful summer. But right in front of the dust cloud surrounding me was a pothole. I dropped and rolled and thought I had recovered from missing an exam but I was wrong. Not seeing the engine light on, I continued as usual until I hit Differential Equations. Well my engine blew out and I never made it to the finish line.
Fast foward to the recent past - to Tuesday night. I thought about studying for the mid-term but that didn't quite work out as I was playing with the project and weekly assignment and then got caught up with the other work I had to learn. Determined to get an A (for my feelings' sake) I decided to do over last year's mid-term. I thought, "Hey, I did pretty well - 12 or 13 out of 20 - and I'm getting through with the assignments better than last year, so I'll just run through paper with my left hand before I go to sleep." Sounds like firing on all cylinders with a broken engine?
On Monday (the day before), we had a revision class. We were to do any questions we felt like but we had to do them on the board. So the good student in me decided to look for the toughest question which was most likely to come and do it - just to flex my muscles. In summary, I got eaten up. It was so bad that a student had written up a whole board and some and I had merely scraped 3 lines of working (not counting the 6 I had already erased). Before we got to the half way mark the towel was taken from me and thrown in so I shamefully sat in my chair with my tail between my legs.
While I was doing over the mid-term I sat in my room and stared at question 1...I skipped the theory part and soon found myself stuck in the mud with 4 questions to go, failing eyes, and bleeding energy from a torn confidence. I closed the book, utterly disappointed with myself and wondering where and how are these marks going to come by me. Then I remembered the quote.
By the afternoon of the exam I had exhausted all my human resources and decided to learn the definitions and trust God to get me over the 65% threshold. As I sat in the exam before the papers were given out, I felt scared. I hate failing. I did it twice too many times in my life. It's easier to fail and walk away thinking you weren't good enough than to fail and try again wondering if you are good enough. I sat in the exam and thought, "2 hours. That means I'm out of here in 1 and a half." I could not have been more wrong.
The paper had 6 questions and was worth 75 marks. At times I wondered if I was doing a final exam or a mid-term. Everything we had done came back except "What is the lecturer's name?" It looked simple (it was simple, from a math perspective) as I read through the questions but when I hit question 2 I blanked on the only thing I thought I had a grasp on. I thought, "Oh great. Now what?" and then skipped that question. As I continued the paper got harder and I was becoming more tired and after the first hour I hadn't gone half way through the paper. There was a five minute space where I felt like doodling until enough of the class had gotten up but then I just sat in my chair and asked, "Where's the hook for this leviathan?"
I really can't tell you if it was hooked or if I got dragged down to the depths of the sea, whether inside or outside. All I know is that I handed in a paper with all questions attempted (I remembered how to do the question...the long way). The tests aren't over just yet, I have two more mids to go then it's home run to the finals. In many ways it feels like the NBA so I can only hope I have the officials' support as I keep playing.
Fast foward to the recent past - to Tuesday night. I thought about studying for the mid-term but that didn't quite work out as I was playing with the project and weekly assignment and then got caught up with the other work I had to learn. Determined to get an A (for my feelings' sake) I decided to do over last year's mid-term. I thought, "Hey, I did pretty well - 12 or 13 out of 20 - and I'm getting through with the assignments better than last year, so I'll just run through paper with my left hand before I go to sleep." Sounds like firing on all cylinders with a broken engine?
On Monday (the day before), we had a revision class. We were to do any questions we felt like but we had to do them on the board. So the good student in me decided to look for the toughest question which was most likely to come and do it - just to flex my muscles. In summary, I got eaten up. It was so bad that a student had written up a whole board and some and I had merely scraped 3 lines of working (not counting the 6 I had already erased). Before we got to the half way mark the towel was taken from me and thrown in so I shamefully sat in my chair with my tail between my legs.
While I was doing over the mid-term I sat in my room and stared at question 1...I skipped the theory part and soon found myself stuck in the mud with 4 questions to go, failing eyes, and bleeding energy from a torn confidence. I closed the book, utterly disappointed with myself and wondering where and how are these marks going to come by me. Then I remembered the quote.
By the afternoon of the exam I had exhausted all my human resources and decided to learn the definitions and trust God to get me over the 65% threshold. As I sat in the exam before the papers were given out, I felt scared. I hate failing. I did it twice too many times in my life. It's easier to fail and walk away thinking you weren't good enough than to fail and try again wondering if you are good enough. I sat in the exam and thought, "2 hours. That means I'm out of here in 1 and a half." I could not have been more wrong.
The paper had 6 questions and was worth 75 marks. At times I wondered if I was doing a final exam or a mid-term. Everything we had done came back except "What is the lecturer's name?" It looked simple (it was simple, from a math perspective) as I read through the questions but when I hit question 2 I blanked on the only thing I thought I had a grasp on. I thought, "Oh great. Now what?" and then skipped that question. As I continued the paper got harder and I was becoming more tired and after the first hour I hadn't gone half way through the paper. There was a five minute space where I felt like doodling until enough of the class had gotten up but then I just sat in my chair and asked, "Where's the hook for this leviathan?"
I really can't tell you if it was hooked or if I got dragged down to the depths of the sea, whether inside or outside. All I know is that I handed in a paper with all questions attempted (I remembered how to do the question...the long way). The tests aren't over just yet, I have two more mids to go then it's home run to the finals. In many ways it feels like the NBA so I can only hope I have the officials' support as I keep playing.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Home Stretch
I went to a seminar last Saturday and the speaker mentioned the importance of celebrating little things. So here goes:
1. I grew a beard strand. This brings me to a total of 5!
I successfully made it to the end of a trying week (I guess you could put that as #2) which included tests, papers, presentations and homework. There are a few more weeks left of school, which is a good thing - it's like running a 400m and coming out of that bend with the wind ripping against you. I think that it can't get much worse from here, though it probably will get worse. The brunt of the wave has hit - the mids, the projects, etc - and most of my courses are preparing for the finals. Speaking of which, the draft timetable is up.
But with all these things happening I can safely say that I'm on the home stretch. This home stretch, however, is not a conveyer belt. Sometimes I feel like I'd pass out in my dreams of being on the other side of the line but everytime I begin to lose consciousness I remember that I need to put my back foot foward and keep running. All my athlete friends (and those who almost made it - like me) can identify with this analogy.
So despite all my twisted ankles, aching hamstring, tight chest and pounding heart, I'll keep running.
"Remember that your legs work because of Him." - Lecrae
1. I grew a beard strand. This brings me to a total of 5!
I successfully made it to the end of a trying week (I guess you could put that as #2) which included tests, papers, presentations and homework. There are a few more weeks left of school, which is a good thing - it's like running a 400m and coming out of that bend with the wind ripping against you. I think that it can't get much worse from here, though it probably will get worse. The brunt of the wave has hit - the mids, the projects, etc - and most of my courses are preparing for the finals. Speaking of which, the draft timetable is up.
But with all these things happening I can safely say that I'm on the home stretch. This home stretch, however, is not a conveyer belt. Sometimes I feel like I'd pass out in my dreams of being on the other side of the line but everytime I begin to lose consciousness I remember that I need to put my back foot foward and keep running. All my athlete friends (and those who almost made it - like me) can identify with this analogy.
So despite all my twisted ankles, aching hamstring, tight chest and pounding heart, I'll keep running.
"Remember that your legs work because of Him." - Lecrae
Sunday, March 06, 2011
The Effects Of Souse On The Mind
On Thursday I was asked where I would go if I could go anywhere. Not wanting to break the air or seriousness in the group I said Australia and tried to make up some interesting reason why. What I was going to say was "I would like to visit the moon in a rocket ship high in the air. Yes I'd like to visit the moon but I don't think I'd like to live there." And the reason is "I would like to look down at the earth from above, though I'd miss all the places and people I love. So although I might stay there for one afternoon I don't want to live on the moon." Honestly, if not the moon, nowhere else matters. I like leaving Barbados and sometimes I yearn for the opportunity to pack my bag and say to my parents and the Bajan life "see you in a few years" but there are days like Saturday that make me say "Dang, I'm glad to be in Bim!"
On Saturday my dad, my brother and I were rushing to town because we were late. I live on the far side of the moon so there's a grace period of about 15 minutes where, if we drive fast enough for long enough we would still be relatively early. The traffic was unusually heavy for a Saturday but we were making good haste. Ten minutes into the journey (which is 15 at the speed limit) we rounded this corner and butt up on a big line of traffic. "Oh man!" my dad said as he slammed the steering wheel. "Don't tell me that man hit that bus!" As usual I was giggling at the whole ordeal because it mean that we had to find a way to turn around and then my dad would drive like a maniac (as vehicles are meant to be driven).
It looked like an accident. There was a line of traffic behind the bus and a line behind the car, facing the bus. Everyone sat in their cars and waited for the drivers to get out. Then the door of the car opened and a man jumped out. But the bus driver didn't move. Then suddenly, from the driver's window, a Styrofoam container wrapped in a plastic bag stood on the plank of the driver's hand like a sailor about to walk the plank. The man ran around the back of the bus to the door and stuck his head through it. Noticing his mistake he ran around to the driver, took the container, ran back in the car and drove off into the sunset.
Ahh! I love being here! Nobody complained, no one cursed. They just put their cars in gear and moved along. There really is never a dull moment in Barbados.
On Saturday my dad, my brother and I were rushing to town because we were late. I live on the far side of the moon so there's a grace period of about 15 minutes where, if we drive fast enough for long enough we would still be relatively early. The traffic was unusually heavy for a Saturday but we were making good haste. Ten minutes into the journey (which is 15 at the speed limit) we rounded this corner and butt up on a big line of traffic. "Oh man!" my dad said as he slammed the steering wheel. "Don't tell me that man hit that bus!" As usual I was giggling at the whole ordeal because it mean that we had to find a way to turn around and then my dad would drive like a maniac (as vehicles are meant to be driven).
It looked like an accident. There was a line of traffic behind the bus and a line behind the car, facing the bus. Everyone sat in their cars and waited for the drivers to get out. Then the door of the car opened and a man jumped out. But the bus driver didn't move. Then suddenly, from the driver's window, a Styrofoam container wrapped in a plastic bag stood on the plank of the driver's hand like a sailor about to walk the plank. The man ran around the back of the bus to the door and stuck his head through it. Noticing his mistake he ran around to the driver, took the container, ran back in the car and drove off into the sunset.
Ahh! I love being here! Nobody complained, no one cursed. They just put their cars in gear and moved along. There really is never a dull moment in Barbados.
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