I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve blogged. I promise I sat down. I promise I looked at the screen and rooted around in my brain to find something to say. And then I couldn’t think of anything. So I gave up. Please don’t be disappointed in me. At least I try.
This morning, I was shaving my legs and thinking about the meaning of life when a Donald Miller quote came to my mind. We don’t really remember our lives. In fact, we remember a very small fraction of it. I didn’t put quotation marks around those because I don’t actually know the quote verbatim, but you get the gist. This caused me to think even more upon my life and shave faster. I only nicked my knees once. I often to go bed at night wondering what I actually did with my day. I don’t like that feeling. That time just kind of melted away.
So I decided to pick up the blog again, so to speak, and get crackin. Everyone has a desire to feel important, accomplished. To know that you DID something. And made a difference. I don’t know if I’m making much of a difference, but at the end of the day, I want to at least remember what I had for lunch.
That said, I have a story for you.
Next week is final exam week. And some of my professors were nice enough to give us tests the week beforehand (this week). On Tuesday morning, I sat down and was about to start studying for my upcoming math test on Wednesday morning. All the tests are taken online in a computer lab, so you have to go online and schedule them to reserve a computer. I went to double-check what time I had scheduled my test for Wednesday and to my utter surprise, I had actually scheduled it for an hour ago. I missed my test. I checked to see if there were any spots open on Wednesday I could snatch up. Nothing. Everything was full.
My stomach flipped out and my mind went crazy.
I have so much to do. Why didn’t I realize earlier how much I had to do? Why didn’t I start sooner?! Oh no! I’m not going to be able to finish! I’m going to fail my tests. And then fail my classes. And lose my scholarship. And I’ll have to go home and be a waitress. Maybe Harbor Docks is hiring. My friends are going to make fun of me. Strangers will call me a bum. My parents will be so disappointed.
I broke down. Cried. For a while. I hadn’t talked to God for a while and I put this stress upon myself. I couldn’t ask him for help. I didn’t deserve it. I continued to go through my day, angry and sad and worried.
Later that night, I was studying with some friends and Claire suggested that I check the schedule again. I didn’t want to. What was the use? There was no room at the inn. That might not be an appropriate use of that popular bible quote, but whatever. Despite my hopelessness, I checked the schedule again.
There was one spot open on Wednesday morning. No freaking way.
I had a second chance! I immediately got crackin on the studying. I hadn’t even studied for it because I thought I wasn’t going to be able to take it. I was up til 430 in the morning, but I got it done. Approximately half-way through the night, it hit me. God got me that slot. I didn’t even ask Him. He just did it.
Oh my God.
I cried again. I couldn’t believe He would do something like that. I hadn’t spent time with Him in three weeks. I was mad that I hadn’t heard from Him in so long. I didn’t deserve something nice. I deserved a kick in the pants and a letter from the university telling me to get the heck out of Louisiana.
But God didn’t care what I actually deserved. It didn’t matter what I deserved. Jesus took that hit for me.
He gave me a gift. A really good one. He is ALWAYS giving good gifts. 24/7. And I mean the kind of gifts that tell you that He knows you like the back of His hand and He sees you in your suffering and He loves you exactly for who you are. And that no matter how often Satan tries to rob you of your joy and sweet talk you into thinking that you can’t ask God for anything because you don’t deserve it, that you are the apple of His eye.
He is always giving good, life-changing gifts. We just need to keep our eyes peeled and prepare to get our socks blown off.