Last Wednesday night, I attended life group during one of the roughest weeks of my semester. I received the news of my low test score on Exam II of Adult Health Theory I. For worship in life group, we usually just have an iPhone playing three songs. Lead Me to the Cross by Hillsong played. The line of the pre-chorus has just been on my heart lately.
This week, I got my test results back for stats and human development which I am very well pleased! I guess what I’m trying to say is that even though these scores are great, they are pale in comparison to the gospel. They can’t live up to what Christ did for me on the cross. My test results are not contingent on my importance or how God views me. They are not what defines me. When I found out about my bad nursing exam score, I tried beating myself up over it by telling myself I was “inadequate”, “stupid”, and even going as far as “You failed your second nursing exam, one of the easiest nursing exams you’ll take, so maybe this career isn’t for you.” I tried making myself cry, yet my eyes wouldn’t water. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, yet I was breathless. None of these comments anchored onto my heart. They simply floated away. I later identified these as lies that the enemy tried making me believe, but I know deep down in my soul, God would never say those things to me.
I don’t pray for A’s anymore. I pray that I would receive a test score that reflects the amount of effort and time that I spent preparing for it, and even then not to dwell on it too much. I take refuge that these test scores, numbers I hold so dearly, are soon fleeting away. To rely on them is to surely lose myself in the process. The happiness they bring will only last as long as the next test result.
Some girls go for athletic boys, some for frat boys, some for pretty boys, and some for party boys. I have a different taste. I like the musicians, the boys that are passionate and philosophical, and the ones that have depth. They can hold an intelligent conversation and take ownership of their words. They are the ones that love their family, respect women, and worship God. I don’t need a pretty boy, because those boys never had to work a day in their life to have girls at their feet. I prefer the boys that did work hard and had a few rough patches. The ones that are slightly awkward, yet strangely charming. The boys that look so dorky they look friendzoned, but find their way out of it. They worked (and are still working) through the kinks of life, but learn and hope from it. They are the boys that become men.
I just helped lead worship for nursing chapel. We had a Alex, a senior student, on the bass, my homie Caleb as male vocals and acoustic, and Deanna (who is my harmony/melody twin) killing it on the piano. Our set was 10,000 Reasons by Matt Redman, Our God by Chris Tomlin, and Oceans by Hillsong. The beginning was shaky, but once we got the ball rolling it, we all felt more comfortable.
The final song was Oceans, which was my song to lead. I’ve sang that song over a hundred times since I first heard it two summers ago at a Hillsong United Concert. Most of the my practice was in private in my own room, of course, so this was my first time singing it on stage in front of a crowd of people. So I gave it my all, eyes shut and whoa, did I see God move in that room! Hearing the other voices of other people in my major was unbelievable. It was a perfect display of unity in the body of Christ. A little piece of heaven on Earth (with nursing students haha).
I’m humbled to serve my department in this way, where nursing, music, and serving are oddly, but beautifully, incorporated. I always thought it was a battle between the sciences and the arts, left-brained thinker vs. right-brained thinkers, but God does this really cool thing where he can combine both and make something refreshing and refined out of it.