Friday, February 15, 2008

three times

I worship at the Holy Church of Our Academic Success, as my husband puts it. God knows this. So when in my life, in three pivotal instances, I accomplished something I could truly be proud of, I can honestly say that I had very little control over the situations.

Junior year in high school. I set the curve for my AP History semester final. The class was my nemesis; I had been barely pulling a low B, even with hours of studying. I was a bit dazed the day I took the exam. The night before, while sitting in the driver's seat of my friend's car, I had crashed my head on the windshield and cracked it.

Freshman year in college. First semester, I got perfect scores on my final exams and pulled a 4.3. All I remember about the day I took those exams is staring at the blank exam sheets, feeling completely lost. I was high on Benedryl, with a fever and a skin rash all over my body.

Jan. 25, 2008. I passed a 10-hour oral assessment for the Foreign Service. I was the only one who got a conditional offer out of 12 examinees. The day was punctuated by my dull, loud cough. I was breathless from cough-variant asthma and nauseated from only two hours of sleep.

I love the way God teaches me humility. He simply takes away any temptation to take credit. I love the way in crucial, character-defining moments in my life, He makes me small and takes the helm.