I would like to take this opportunity to express both my apologies and my appreciation to any readers who have periodically been checking this site in hopes of finding a new blogpost over the past year. You have been faithful when I have been faithless.
The goal that I had set nearly two years ago was to write at least one blogpost a month. My last post was in March. The month after March is April. Guess what month it is now? April! And the last day of the month, no less. As Mara would say, I just squeezed under the wire once again... in a sense.
There has been so much going on this year that one blogpost could hardly approach all I want to express. Rambling about my trip to Zimbabwe could constitute several posts in itself. Nevertheless, I must satisfy myself with a sweeping summary of the year's trials and adventures. In fact, to do the story any justice at all, I need to go back at least five years.
It was my last year of high school. I liked my math courses, so I decided that I wanted to be an engineer.
No, I did well in my science courses and decided that I could be successful as an engineer.
Umm... the engineering program included paid work terms and I figured God could use more engineers?
OK, you got me. I really have no idea why I went into the engineering program. Perhaps it was because my English teachers refused to give me 100% on anything no matter how hard I tried. Perhaps it was because I thought it would please my parents if I went into a high-paying career. I don't know. I don't even know if that initial decision was a mistake. What I do know, however, is that God would never be silent on an earnest a prayer unless He had reason. I think my prayer went something like this:
Dear God,
I have to make an important decision about my future real soon. I have to choose the career that will define the rest of my life, and I have to decide in the next few days. I've been praying about this a lot, but the only thing I feel like you might be calling me to is missions work, and there are plenty of degrees that can lead to that. Unless you tell me to do something soon, I'm going to go into engineering. I know I often don't listen to you very well, so if engineering isn't what you want me to do, please make me fail out so I won't have to make the choice myself.
Your son,
David
Writing letters to God is fun. If you've never done it, you should try it sometime. Please note how urgent and life-binding I thought my university decision to be. I try to recall this troubled mindset whenever I need to summon compassion for a first-year. It is the second last sentence in this particular prayer that gives me pause whenever I want to say that going into engineering was a mistake. It is the last sentence of this prayer that I tried to forget when I came out of my fourth year of engineering having failed a course.
It was a stupid course! It was taught poorly! My work wasn't properly graded! These were my excuses, and while I still believe some of them to be valid, they were attempts to ignore my four-year-old prayer. I had failed a course that, beyond reasonable doubt, I should not have failed. Before going on my three-month work term in Zimbabwe, I, like Gideon, decided to put out a fleece; the supplimentary exam. When I came back from Zimbabwe, I studied diligently for the last full month of the summer, wrote the supplimentary exam, and failed once again. The conclusion should have been inescapable. Sadly, pride is a master escape artist.
My subsequent plan was moreso a product of practicality than obedience. I had to wait another semester before I could take the course again, so, not wanting to waste my time, I started a second degree. In an elaborate plan, I determined to transform the added year in my engineering degree into an opportunity to complete two degrees in the same timeframe: one civil engineering degree and one English degree with a French minor. Rather than doing a six-year degree in seven years, I would have both a six-year degree and a four-year degree in seven years. It was like the "worn and loved" teddy bear I sewed together in junior high that had the stitching on the outside; I took a mistake and made it look intentional. I was trying to save face while losing sight of His face.
He didn't abandon me. When I shut my eyes as tight as I could and asked my God to let me see, He did not give up on me. My life is nothing if not a testament to the faithfulness of my Lord.
I was unwilling to leave my engineering degree unfinished, even though I didn't enjoy the courses and knew it wasn't what I should be doing with my life. With this mindset, I spent my open semester taking Arts courses: English, French, linguistics, and religious studies. It was amazing. I had a wonderful semester, better than any semester I ever had at the university; I wanted to discuss the course content with my professors; I spent my free time doing extra reading into the material; I looked forward to writing finals, not because I wanted the semester to be over, but because it was a chance to express what I had learned. It was beautiful. Still, I retook the engineering course the following semester. I'm sad to say that it wasn't until the last month of the semester that I acknowledged what I already knew; I wasn't supposed to be doing engineering. There was a reason that my reaction to my English courses was so drastically different from my reaction to the engineering courses, and it was more than ability or personal preference.
Deciding to drop engineering and switch fully into English was one of the most difficult and drawn-out decisions I have ever made. Thankfully, I have received plenty of confirmation that I did the right thing. Many people who know me well have told me that English seems right for me and engineering does not. I had expected at least some negative reactions to my decision, but I have only encountered two: one from a fellow engineering student who was sad to see me go, and the other from a professor who, after hearing more of my story, encouraged me more than anyone that I was doing the right thing. In these days, I am realizing how important it is to have close friends who know my heartsong. I forget it all too often.
My current plan is to continue on with my English studies into a masters and a PhD so that I can teach English at a university. Maybe that's what I should do with my life. Maybe my life will always be a, "constant realign under [His] love devine". I know that worry is the antithesis of trust, I try to remember that any plan I could come up with on my own could never work, and I believe in a God who needs no help with the planning. I require no more reasons than these to attempt to surrender more to Him each day.
So here I lay both my brokenness and my joy. Do with them what you will. With this post, I take up my goal of at-least-monthly blogging once again. I expect you to hold me to it.
The goal that I had set nearly two years ago was to write at least one blogpost a month. My last post was in March. The month after March is April. Guess what month it is now? April! And the last day of the month, no less. As Mara would say, I just squeezed under the wire once again... in a sense.
There has been so much going on this year that one blogpost could hardly approach all I want to express. Rambling about my trip to Zimbabwe could constitute several posts in itself. Nevertheless, I must satisfy myself with a sweeping summary of the year's trials and adventures. In fact, to do the story any justice at all, I need to go back at least five years.
It was my last year of high school. I liked my math courses, so I decided that I wanted to be an engineer.
No, I did well in my science courses and decided that I could be successful as an engineer.
Umm... the engineering program included paid work terms and I figured God could use more engineers?
OK, you got me. I really have no idea why I went into the engineering program. Perhaps it was because my English teachers refused to give me 100% on anything no matter how hard I tried. Perhaps it was because I thought it would please my parents if I went into a high-paying career. I don't know. I don't even know if that initial decision was a mistake. What I do know, however, is that God would never be silent on an earnest a prayer unless He had reason. I think my prayer went something like this:
Dear God,
I have to make an important decision about my future real soon. I have to choose the career that will define the rest of my life, and I have to decide in the next few days. I've been praying about this a lot, but the only thing I feel like you might be calling me to is missions work, and there are plenty of degrees that can lead to that. Unless you tell me to do something soon, I'm going to go into engineering. I know I often don't listen to you very well, so if engineering isn't what you want me to do, please make me fail out so I won't have to make the choice myself.
Your son,
David
Writing letters to God is fun. If you've never done it, you should try it sometime. Please note how urgent and life-binding I thought my university decision to be. I try to recall this troubled mindset whenever I need to summon compassion for a first-year. It is the second last sentence in this particular prayer that gives me pause whenever I want to say that going into engineering was a mistake. It is the last sentence of this prayer that I tried to forget when I came out of my fourth year of engineering having failed a course.
It was a stupid course! It was taught poorly! My work wasn't properly graded! These were my excuses, and while I still believe some of them to be valid, they were attempts to ignore my four-year-old prayer. I had failed a course that, beyond reasonable doubt, I should not have failed. Before going on my three-month work term in Zimbabwe, I, like Gideon, decided to put out a fleece; the supplimentary exam. When I came back from Zimbabwe, I studied diligently for the last full month of the summer, wrote the supplimentary exam, and failed once again. The conclusion should have been inescapable. Sadly, pride is a master escape artist.
My subsequent plan was moreso a product of practicality than obedience. I had to wait another semester before I could take the course again, so, not wanting to waste my time, I started a second degree. In an elaborate plan, I determined to transform the added year in my engineering degree into an opportunity to complete two degrees in the same timeframe: one civil engineering degree and one English degree with a French minor. Rather than doing a six-year degree in seven years, I would have both a six-year degree and a four-year degree in seven years. It was like the "worn and loved" teddy bear I sewed together in junior high that had the stitching on the outside; I took a mistake and made it look intentional. I was trying to save face while losing sight of His face.
He didn't abandon me. When I shut my eyes as tight as I could and asked my God to let me see, He did not give up on me. My life is nothing if not a testament to the faithfulness of my Lord.
I was unwilling to leave my engineering degree unfinished, even though I didn't enjoy the courses and knew it wasn't what I should be doing with my life. With this mindset, I spent my open semester taking Arts courses: English, French, linguistics, and religious studies. It was amazing. I had a wonderful semester, better than any semester I ever had at the university; I wanted to discuss the course content with my professors; I spent my free time doing extra reading into the material; I looked forward to writing finals, not because I wanted the semester to be over, but because it was a chance to express what I had learned. It was beautiful. Still, I retook the engineering course the following semester. I'm sad to say that it wasn't until the last month of the semester that I acknowledged what I already knew; I wasn't supposed to be doing engineering. There was a reason that my reaction to my English courses was so drastically different from my reaction to the engineering courses, and it was more than ability or personal preference.
Deciding to drop engineering and switch fully into English was one of the most difficult and drawn-out decisions I have ever made. Thankfully, I have received plenty of confirmation that I did the right thing. Many people who know me well have told me that English seems right for me and engineering does not. I had expected at least some negative reactions to my decision, but I have only encountered two: one from a fellow engineering student who was sad to see me go, and the other from a professor who, after hearing more of my story, encouraged me more than anyone that I was doing the right thing. In these days, I am realizing how important it is to have close friends who know my heartsong. I forget it all too often.
Speaking of my heartsong, a good friend of mine reminded me of another verse a few nights ago: the part about missions. Sometimes I think the only reason God let me stay in the engineering program until my fourth year before telling me to switch was because that was exactly how long I needed to stay in order experience a work term in Zimbabwe. Most of the time, I remember that He gave me so many other opportunities for growth while I was in engineering as well. I learned about a lot more than just engineering concepts over those four years, and He knew I would. So was a three-month stint in Zimbabwe the fulfillment of my passion for missions? I ask myself that question sometimes. I ask because the future I envision doesn't seem to take missions into account.
My current plan is to continue on with my English studies into a masters and a PhD so that I can teach English at a university. Maybe that's what I should do with my life. Maybe my life will always be a, "constant realign under [His] love devine". I know that worry is the antithesis of trust, I try to remember that any plan I could come up with on my own could never work, and I believe in a God who needs no help with the planning. I require no more reasons than these to attempt to surrender more to Him each day.
So here I lay both my brokenness and my joy. Do with them what you will. With this post, I take up my goal of at-least-monthly blogging once again. I expect you to hold me to it.
