Faith in the Faithful

In my “Ready, Set, Sophomore!” post, I described my feelings about going into the fall semester: “I don’t think I have ever felt so inadequate for a task in my entire life.”

It was a pretty accurate description of my entire semester. That semester pushed me to my limit—within the first few weeks.

A little window into the inner-life of last semester Lydia:

·      My schedule was jam-packed. Looking at my planner for last semester is still sickening.

·      Within the first few weeks, I began to become very homesick—that feeling grew and persisted throughout the entire semester.

·      My average amount of sleep per night was 4 hours. Every once and a while I would get 5 or 6—that was a really big accomplishment. Whenever I had an A&P test, it was more like 2 or 3. (Friday nights I would be sure to schedule 10 hours to try and make up for the torture I had put my body through earlier in the week)

·      I became so sleep-deprived that sometimes the sight of a bed could cause me to burst into tears, and the feeling of flannel (the fabric basically all my pajama pants are made out of) had the power to make me sick to my stomach and crave sleep with my entire being.

·      I was the most emotionally unstable I have ever been.

·      I cried myself to sleep probably at least once a week—if not more—just because I was so tired and I wanted to go home so badly.

·      It was the longest semester of my life.

My friend Emily (if you are my friend on Facebook or follow me on Instagram, she’s my lab partner—the girl with me in all the dead cat pictures) were reminiscing the other day about last semester and the state we were in (her semester was very similar). We sat there wondering how on earth our bodies survived.

But really, we know.

I know, because, as terrible as last semester was, and as much as I am so glad it is over, it taught me so much about my Heavenly Father.

Because when you reach the point where you know you can’t go any farther…

When you physically cannot handle the task in front of you…

When you seriously do not have enough time to finish everything you need to…

You have a few choices:

1.     Give up—do that thing that you’ve been on the brink of doing since 8^th grade. Just quit. Quit trying so hard. Quit studying so much. Quite caring. Embrace the failure and just deal with it.

2.     Plod along and continue to drain yourself, growing more hopeless every backbreaking step.
Or…

3.     Rest in the strength of the Almighty, and be awestruck every day by His continuous provision and love.

I believe God showed me a little more of His character every day through the struggle that was last semester. I saw it when He brought things to my remembrance and helped me retain what I studied about the neuromuscular junction at 1 a.m. I saw it when He gave me the strength to get out of bed in the morning, even though I had just gotten into it a couple/few hours before. I saw it in the grace and patience He gave my supervisors at work for those mornings when I didn’t get out of bed in time. I saw it on the days that I sat crying, staring at my countdown for Thanksgiving break, wondering if I could make it another day, let alone three more weeks—but in my heart hearing that still, small voice, reminding me that God is a faithful Father. He knew my schedule before the semester began—allowed it to be the way it was. Every day He gave me strength to get through it. And every day I could look back on the one before and see His mighty hand and know that the same mighty hand was over the new day as well.

            Speaking of fathers, God used my earthy father—and mother—I know. They prayed for every test. Every paper. I swear, my parents have prayed me through college thus far. Not to mention my dad and brother both helped me substantially with my Doctrines paper; they basically told me every source I needed to look up and read—and then some. And then there was Matty—bless that boy.

God used my amazingly supportive
family and friends to pick me up
and help me keep going. 

It’s a commonly known fact that boys don’t like it when girls cry. They don’t what to do. It’s not a leak that you can fix with a wrench. Sometimes, nothing fixes it. Matty will never admit to this, but he’s a pro at dealing with me when I cry—and I cried so much last semester. And I was tired, oh, so tired. One night at dinner, I looked down at my iPod and checked my Thanksgiving countdown. I think the countdown read 3 weeks? I could not do three more weeks. One more day was too much, it felt. And I had an A&P test the next day. I was so tired, but I knew I wouldn’t get to sleep until 2 a.m. at the earliest. It was too much. I lost complete control of my emotions. The tears began as a trickle as I slowly put my iPod back into my purse. But then the dam broke, and my head was down on the table as I sobbed and sobbed. I told him that I wanted to go home—something he had been hearing from me for most of the semester. He sat there and comforted me, eventually saying,

“All right, get up. We’re going to Starbucks and getting you a milkshake” (what he calls Frappuccinos).

“No….I….can’t. I…have…a…test. I don’t have time… I don’t have time for anything.”

“Come on, you’ll be fine. You have your notes; you can study in the car. You need a pick-me-up.”

“You…didn’t….bring…your…keys…to…dinner.”

“Oh yea, you’re right...”

Of course, he didn’t give up that easily, and he had another key handy, and he took me to Starbucks to cheer me up.

But he didn’t just use Starbucks. Matty doesn’t struggle with idolizing schoolwork like I do, so he is really good at teaching me balance. At night when he would walk me back to my room, he would often part with me with the words,

“Unless the Lord builds the house,

those who build it labor in vain” (Psalm 127:1 ESV).

During prayer, he would often thank God for my diligence and pray that God would help me honour Him with my work. He would pray that I would work unto Him and not unto men, and that God would give me strength and rest.

One weekend, Matty went with his friend Isaac to visit
Southern Baptist Seminary in Kentucky.
They drove through and stopped in Chattanooga. There, Matty
bought me chocolate from our favourite coffee shop and he
brought back a fall branch from Chatt so I
could have a little fall from home. 

            And God answered those prayers. I remember one week last semester, I honestly and truly did not have enough time for everything I had due. It was a Wednesday (I was usually up until 1 or 2 on Wednesday nights working on assignments on a normal basis). I had assignments due the next day. I had church to go to, and I couldn’t skip because we had made commitments in youth group. It was also White Glove—the bane of every resident student’s existence—that night. In the smidgen of time I had between classes and church, I frantically tried to complete my White Glove jobs. It came to a point when I realized, I’m not going to get these done. It’s impossible. But I had faced a lot of impossible things that semester. So, with rag in hand, I wiped down the bathroom wall and prayed, What do you have in store for me this time, Lord? I can’t do this, and You know that. You always provide and humble me with Your amazing plans. How are You going to show your power this time?

I wasn’t challenging Him. I wasn’t being a smart alec. I just had this peace—I knew that God has something in store for me. Worrying was pointless—and faithless. So I continued cleaning, and within minutes Nadia, a girl in my unit, came to me.
            “Hey, I’m done with all my White Glove jobs—want me to help me with yours?”

We passed White Glove with flying colours. I got to church on time. I finished my assignments. And I had another amazing blessing to add to my list of reminders of how loving and gracious and mighty my God is.

            Last semester is over. This semester has begun. And what does this semester look like?

·      12 credit hours

·      Sleep

·      Free time

·      Social life

            Sometimes I feel guilty for having such a light load. Sometimes I’m afraid people are going to think I’m lazy. But then I just remember that this semester is a gift from my Father, just like last semester was. He is giving me a much-needed period of rest. This fall, Lord willing, I will be in nursing school. I will be entering into quite possibly one of the most (if not the most) taxing experiences I have ever been through. But I can face that prospect, knowing that my God is faithful. He has provided every ounce of energy and every grade along the way. If He didn’t want me where I am, I know I wouldn’t be here now, for it is only through His grace that I have made it this far. If He wants me to make it through nursing school, I will. Right now, I am thankfully accepting this half-time break that He has provided. I know that before I know it, the deafening buzzer will sound, and I’ll be right back in the game, facing a fierce and tireless opponent. I am weak. I am slow. I am inadequate. But I know,

The Lord is the everlasting God,

the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

His understanding is unsearchable.

He gives power to the faint,

and to him who has no might he increases strength.

Even youths shall faint and be weary,

and young men shall fall exhausted;

but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;

they shall mount up with wings like eagles;

they shall run and not be weary;

they shall walk and not faint.

(Isaiah 40:28b-41 ESV)