I thought that I would get my scores on Wednesday of last week, but such was not the case. Hopefully this Wednesday will tell me my future. The last test felt as borderline as it turned out to be, with one point of difference deciding the outcome. This one felt significantly better. Even so, I awoke on Wednesday at 8:05 without setting an alarm and my apprehensions were unfortunately not met with any real sort of relief.
This has been a significant lesson for me all through last year, a lesson that I have taken far too long to even begin to learn, namely that I cannot set my life to an academic calendar. I tend to think that once I pass this exam, once I move on from this phase of academic life, I can finally once again acclimate myself to a social life or ministry, or even real personal development. My perceptions of myself, my family, and my friends, therefore, tend to be defined by whatever phase I find myself within my studies. And this, dear friends, is a poor excuse to avoid living life properly, particularly when you are stuck in a given phase for an extra year or two.
It is a strange thing now. The better version of me is tugging once again, but without being immersed in ministry, I do not know how to engage again.
I often look to the life of Jesus (WOW, SO SPIRITUAL). He did not start ministry until He was 30. I am circling nearer that age with every passing year (and have been since I was born). I often ask Him how He managed it. He has not been very talkative on the matter. I suppose that His approach was not so far off from my own, just studying and, when I am being less stupid, trying to be shaped by God into whatever manner of creature He wants for His works.
His first miracle was sort of the most casual, the closest thing to a party trick. Try being Jesus for a second. You have been studying the Old Testament and talking super closely with God for all your life. You recruit a few disciples who call you the Son of God, and your cousin has a similar sentiment to share. Pretty cool week. That weekend, there is a wedding. You, your mom, and your disciples are invited. You are just there trying to enjoy your time, perhaps a little apprehensive about having just begun the journey that would lead to your early death in an effort to save all of humanity from burning in hell. Your mom walks up to you with that look in her eye that recognizes that you can get things done and says "they have no more wine". "Woman, why do you involve me? My hour has not yet come."
But your mom has already turned to the waiters and told them to do whatever you tell them. Ugh. Classic mom, even when you (and she knows that you have a direct line to God in heaven) specifically told her that it was not time. You were going to get the word out a little, build up a reputation and a bigger crew of disciples, and avoid letting it be a whole hype thing. But you do not want to piss your mom off, so you look around and notice a half-dozen huge jars normally used to wash up to be ceremonially clean. That's only enough for 150 gallons of wine, but beggars cannot be choosers. So you have the waiting staff fill them up with water, and the water is of course turned into wine, and good wine at that, according to the master of the banquet who got the first sample. So now you have been pressured into starting your ministry before you intended, but you can skip over mincing words with your disciples because they already believe you. You can shoot straight with them about who and what you are. Fine, thanks mom.
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