Before I happily leave these past few months behind, I'm looking back for a moment. I started my fourth semester of college on January 10, 2013, expectations relatively high. I never like the spring semester as much as the fall, maybe because there isn't quite enough time in between to recoup my energy levels, and maybe because that break is just a small taste of summer, and now I can't stop thinking about the warm yellow sun and bright green grass. It's hard sitting in a dark, stuffy classroom when I could be sprawled in the grass with a good dog (or three of them, in my case) at my side. Come to think of it, I don't do much sprawling in the grass. I mean, really, this is Texas, and fire ants are lurking nearby.
At the beginning of the semester I made predictions. I was sure I would dislike my online psychology class because of all the reading and all the discussion board postings. Mind you, I love a good book, but that usually doesn't equate to textbooks. I was also sure that I would have to study like never before for my pathophysiology class, my first real nursing course. Turns out, though it hasn't been a breeze, it has been a lot easier than I thought it would be. So to those students who gave me sympathetic looks when I told them my class schedule, ha! I win! I was sure an art/music history class would be easy, that my ten years of piano lessons and my crafty side would zip me along like a pro. On that count, I was very, very wrong. I'll stick to the sciences.
All in all, I've learned a lot, and not just what my professors have been going on about. You know, plenty of "life" things, like needing at least forty-five minutes to get to school on time means you need to be on your way down the driveway at least forty-five minutes before class starts. Like finding a website that builds your concept map automatically is much easier than drawing it by hand, and that rubber cement is your best friend when you're creating a collage (for your art class, of course). Ventilation is absolutely required. And for fun reading, while a nice distraction, should be limited, especially when you're trying to wish away assignments. Spring break should be used for homework and catching up, but who really does that? (I applaud you if you do.)
I know I've never said this before (ha), but worrying doesn't help anything. Though a little anxious and a little scared, I did get the letter I was hoping for, and I'm starting nursing school in the fall, which means I'm halfway to graduation. Not that I try to wish away time or anything. Though I will be relaxing in the sunshine this summer, I'll also be fawning over my orange stethoscope and (electronically) flipping through my textbooks. I'm also going to read. Really read. A lot. I've been trying to get through Les Mis for over a year, and that's just not right.
Since my last post, my emotional state has improved. Someone recently posted on Facebook that the saying "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" is wrong, because really what doesn't kill you makes you realize how much you need a Savior. Isn't that the truth? I have pushed myself even closer to God through these past few weeks, and He has moved closer to me. In the last couple of weeks I keep getting pop-ups in my mind of verses I memorized a long time ago, or even verses I've read a few times but never worked to remember. I'll remember hymns that no one sings anymore and current songs that stop me in whatever I'm doing and tell me to keep trusting. Those comforting promises of God keep me going emotionally and physically.
Friday my camera and I took a trip outdoors in search of artsy shots. I'm not a great photographer by any stretch of the imagination, but I like to try. Up close and personal, focused angles are my favorite, so I scouted around my family's rose garden to find picture perfect subjects. Nature is so awe-inspiring to me. My dad and I worked on a garden over the weekend, and I told him I just thought the idea of dirt and plants was so odd. I mean, how can you comprehend the round globe of earth covered with dirt and grass and water? I don't know, it nearly makes my brain explode! He said that he heard something about farming. You can look at your food on its plate and think about the farmer plowing, planting, and harvesting. But did the farmer actually make the vegetables grow? He put a lot of work into it, digging up dirt and planting seeds, but he didn't make the seeds sprout or the rain fall or the sun shine. It is all God's handiwork, His plan from the very beginning.
I aimed my camera lens at a rose bud, one not yet ready to bloom, but close. My mom loves these roses. She waters them and weeds them and fertilizes them and cuts them back. But in all her effort, she cannot choose when a bud will form, and she cannot wish a bud to open before her very eyes. The timing of it is not her own, but God's. Isn't it the same for us?
Think of how the small, green bud must feel. She's just there, reaching toward sunlight and waiting to bloom. She wonders how long it will take, what her petals will look like when they unfurl, and if anyone will stop and smile because she's a reflection of God's plan, a part of His creation. It isn't easy to wait. As the bud gets bigger and all of that photosynthesis stuff happens, the spiders are nearby hoping to string a few sticky webs, and the aphids are searching for a place to do whatever it is that they do. The bud can't get distracted. She's got to keep a steady head and strain her eyes toward heaven. (You didn't know a bud has eyes, did you?) Finally, one morning, as the cool breeze blows across her leaves and the dewdrops gather on them and then evaporate, she will curl open at just the right moment, lift her head, and praise the One who fashioned her so perfectly.
Maybe I let my imagination run wild. But when I look at the picture of that bud, that's the story I think of. I can almost hear it whispering, telling me to lean close and listen.
Don't give up. Someday soon you'll bloom, and you will be beautiful.
