No clever intro for this one. Been staring at the cursor for nigh on 10 minutes at this point with no progress. Might as well rip the band-aide off.
I received my results yesterday, and "It was the consensus of my examiners that my performance during the examination was not at the level required for certification."
Ouch. I've been here before, that bitter taste of failure. The feeling of ridicule from the surgical community. Being not enough, not good enough, and the worst, not safe enough. As you can imagine, Satan can take these lies and wreck havoc.
But it wasn't failure, or even Satan, that I struggled with this time. It was finally admitting fear.
I stared at my screen with its red FAIL clear and well illuminated. Maybe if I blinked enough times it would magically change. But it didn't, and with shoulders slumped in admitted defeat I faced the fact that I had to do it all again. He turned me then, gently, but He turned me to face what I had put down two weeks ago. His instruction wasn't harsh, wasn't severe, wasn't even chastising, "Pick it up again." That's when I cried.
We all have our crosses to bear. They come in all different shapes and sizes. Some so heavy and carried for so long, that we feel we can't make it another step. But truthfully none bigger than what we can bear. Yet, in that moment, in my weakness, I couldn't jump to pick it up as instructed. Instead, I looked at it face on for the first time in my life, and He didn't chide me for pausing, He stayed next to me patiently waiting as always. I can't explain exactly what I saw through my blurred vision, but for the first time I was able to see it for what it was. Fear.
No, I do not think God wants me to be afraid. But I do think that He wants me to know Him as El Shaddai; The All-Sufficient One. Living on my own for many years now, and taking it one day at a time. I carried my cross as bravely as I could. Bravely, unfortunately, in my dictionary ment without acknowledging its presence. I had to be tough. And again in my dictionary, tough ment without fear. I think it's time I find a new dictionary. Because I am afraid. Afraid of speaking. Afraid of saying the wrong thing. Afraid of making a poor decision. Afraid of hurting someone. Afraid of making it to the end and not hearing those words "well done, thou good and faithful servant". And where I am afraid, I am weak.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
I never despised a verse before, but last night, as a few friends and I discussed El Shaddai, this verse filled me with a sense of alarm, almost as if I'd never actually understood it before. In that moment, I would have rather done almost anything than to glory in my infirmities, my weaknesses and my fears. And with shame I wondered if I had ever. Recognizing my nothingness in service of my Savior is one thing, but my walk.... I was very purposeful about keeping my shoulders back, whether that was down the street in Mexico, or through the hallway in the hospital, or preparing for my oral board exam.
So taking this cross again, I do not know where Jesus will lead, but I will follow. I am not about to think that by admitting fear, will erase fear. It may be even more daunting this time, as should I fail, I'll be left with only one more attempt. Stakes are higher. But by acknowledging it, does help me accept it, and then maybe I can learn to live with it, and dare I say even glory in it.
Much Love.
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