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!
