Yo estoy cayendome.

Thought I would share a little insight into the internal struggle I’ve been wrestling the past couple of months.  A struggle which has culminated and been brought to an end today, Saturday, September 15, 2012.  That makes it sound so final, as if a decision has been made.  Far from it unfortunately.  Rather it’s more of a leap, after months of standing at the edge, it’s a gigantic flinging of myself into the unknown.

This journey I’ve been on since…well, since high school has been navigated with no more than an end point and Jesus showing me where to next put my foot.  But that whole inbetween time…complete blackness.  Time between my current footstep and that end point, unknown.  And just where those footsteps will take me before I arrive, unknown.

Psalm 119:105  Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.

I took another step today, or as I mentioned earlier, more of a gigantic leap, that has been in debate between Jesus and myself for the past couple of months.  Today ERAS released residency applications. 

Have you ever seen a father in a swimming pool, arms wide open, beckoning to their child saying “jump”? That’s kind of what this felt like. Only, it wasn’t at the side of a swimming pool. And, I can’t actually physically see my father waiting for me with open arms.  Instead of a swimming pool, I’m at the open door of an airplane 14,000 ft up and my father says to jump.  Excitedly I grab a parachute and prepare, but am stopped.  “No, just jump” is what I’m told.  So for the past two months I’ve stood at that open door, unable to let go of that parachute.  Knuckles white it’s gripped so tightly as I can’t bring myself to let go of my own control of the jump, let go of my safety net.

Let me explain this analogy:

Residency programs will initially look at two things when considering applicants for residency.  #1 the school.  Well, I’m from Mexico so, Strike 1, no negotiation.  #2. Step scores. When I interviewed for this year in New York the doctor took a look at my Step 1 score and said that it’s not what it should be, but conceded that its “work-able” (strike 1 ½)  but, only if I did better on my Step 2, which I didn’t = strike 2 ½.  So in other words, applying for a general surgery residency I’m already 2 ½ strikes into striking out before I even get up to bat.  My chances of actually getting on base = slim to nil. 

(Sorry for getting side-tracked with another analogy…habit I guess)

I suppose that slim to nil is what makes it feel more like I’m jumping out of a plane than simply into a swimming pool.  And jumping out of a plane with a slim to nil chance of being caught, I immediately grab the parachute.  Taking matters into my own hands to assure myself that I’m going to be safe and not end in smithereens on the terrain far below.  In my own case, that parachute was a family practice residency.  A residency more prevalent than surgery in the United States and does not require the same high step scores. Not necessarily assuring me of obtaining a residency…but I at least was going to bat with a much better chance of getting on base.  But standing at the door parachute in hand I was convicted knowing I was picking it up not out of God’s will but out of my own will of fear, of my need to have control, and dare I say it, of doubt.  Then I’d look at my 2 ½ strikes and think how completely foolish I’d be to jump without at least some sort of back-up, you know….just in case.  And just like that an internal dispute continually raged.  Sometimes at a whisper in the back of my mind, other times at a deafening roar making my stomach knot, my jaw clench and my throat constrict.  Sometimes I could almost convince myself to put the parachute down, but it was as if it was glued to my hands, I couldn’t bring myself to let go even if I wanted to.

Over time I realized that if I was ever going to be able to let go of the parachute I had to be at peace with the possibility of ending in smithereens on the terrain far below.  He’s just telling me to jump. He’s not promising to catch me.  He’s just showing me what my next step is to be. 

What did Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego say to King Nebuchadnezzar?

Daniel 3:16-18

  Sadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, answered and said to the king, O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter.

  If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, o king.

  But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, not worship the golden image which thou hast set up.

Perhaps not the best illustration of the situation I’m currently in…I’m not exactly facing death.  But their example has given me an example to follow.  I have the faith to believe that if it be so my God is able to catch me. He is able to find a place for me in a general surgery residency this application year.  But if not, I have the faith to jump as instructed, to fall and to land however painful it may be.

Being a Christian most certainly does not guarantee us a nice smooth and easy life.  Joseph was thrown in jail.  Daniel was thrown in the lion’s den.  Jonah swallowed by a fish.  Noah ridiculed.  We have no more than an end point and our next step.  If this next step is ment to take me all the way to the earth where bruised and broken I will then take the next step.  Who am I to think that I know how to arrive at the end point better than God.

So I jumped today without a parachute.  I know that chances are come March you will find me smashed among some rocks.  But I also know that even if I were stepping up to bat with 3 strikes already on the count my God would still be able to catch me.  So I’m jumping with 2 ½ strikes which is ½ a strike more than He needs.

Whereas I normally write stories on this blog to others; I took the time to write this more for myself.  So that come March, come what may, I can be reminded of why I jumped.  Jumped without a parachute.

Hasta!