Christmas Miracle

The title I gave this blog post may be a bit misleading. The one and true Christmas miracle is the birth of Jesus, and that miracle can never be topped (in my opinion). Yet, spoiler alert, I have titled this post accordingly because of a miracle that took place in this season of my life, as it just so happened to be around the Christmas holiday. Thus, "Christmas Miracle" seemed fitting.

Anyway, on with the blog...

So if you follow my posts regularly, no you have not missed anything nor did your electronic device crash--- I was in hibernation the past two months. Also known as, graduate-school-took-over-my-life-and-I-could-not-keep-up. As much as I anticipated PT school to be busy, I still set a goal in place to blog once a week, which, as you may know, I accomplished for a good while! Suddenly, Thanksgiving was here, and then Christmas, and in the midst of all that, my concept of time was nonexistent. I could not even think about sitting down to post on the blog because my mind was too occupied with what bone connected to the next bone (pun for that "Dem Bones" children's song). But seriously, as much as I wanted to think about anything other than the human body, I couldn't.

It got to the point where I would lay down to go to sleep at night, and as I would pray, I would start to rehearse muscle origins and insertions. I grew so frustrated with myself, literally smacking my head and saying "Bethany, stop. The Lord wants you to talk to Him about your concerns and praises, not study with Him---He already knows the human body, duh."

I literally ate, slept, and breathed the human body. Well, okay, that sounds weird, but you know what I mean.

The amount of information I had stuffed into my brain called for a break every five minutes, so it felt. Yet, whenever I justified actually giving myself I break, I only found myself moving to study the subject matter of a different class. Maybe you know what this is like because you are reading this as a student yourself, or perhaps in your particular season of life, "mental breaks" just do not seem possible. Nonetheless, as fascinated as I am about human anatomy, I found myself questioning every single day, "How much more can I possibly learn?"

If mental exhaustion ever was such a thing, I felt it, and would argue I became a pro at it.

Is it possible to love something so much that you begin to hate it? Those choices of words might be a bit harsh, but what I mean is, does it makes sense that the very thing you set out to do, are passionate about, and pursue with everything you have, can later seem to divide you, cause you to drift away, or lose motivation?

Let me just say, that I have wanted to write these past two months. I wanted, more than anything, to spill my thoughts out for others to read and try to make sense of it all because I sure as heck couldn't. Yet, that is the very component that held me back: I did not want to put that burden on readers. You see, my thoughts, they are an absolute mess. They go in circles, that are not only never-ending, but also twisty and zigzaggy. If I can barely make sense of my thoughts, why on earth would I want anyone else to enter that battlefield?

So, I stopped writing. I knew it would not be for long, but it was certainly longer than I wanted. I kept thinking of ways that I could justify my absent posts: "Oh you know, school got busy." "Life got to the best of me." or "I decided to fast from my blog." All of the flowery excuses seemed too easy, and quite frankly, dishonest. Well, this is the raw me and this is the truth. The past two months have been yucky. Straight icky in all ways. I am quite the vulnerable lady and thus, there was no way that I was trying to hide from the blog readers what I was experiencing, but rather what I was lacking. Over the course of my blog writing, I had received such positivity about my words. Surely, they have been flattering, but always hard for me to fully accept. (Words of affirmation is not my top love language, but it is up there). All of the feedback truly helped me to see that my blog was not for me. Finally! Blog post after blog post, I would argue back and forth with myself [as I oftentimes do], "Should I keep writing? Who reads my posts anyway? Who would benefit from my life? How could this possibly give God glory?" Yet, as I prayed, and continued to write out of faith of course, I began to get that feedback which I saw as confirmation to keep blogging. Yet, once I was deep into my first semester of grad school, I fell into what I call a "funk."

I hate funks. I have had a few in my life, and I hope I am not the only one. This "funk" left me spiritually lost. I mean, I had no idea where God was at this time? It was because I could not feel, hear, or see Him that I decided I should not blog. In fact, I could not blog, because I did not want to be hypocritical. How could I possibly get on my laptop, muster up some nice post about Jesus, then just move on with my tough and extremely overwhelming school workload? No. I refused.

This may seem a bit much, but I wanted to keep things real with all the readers. I am never one to pretend, and that includes being behind the computer screen, where it would be easy to do so. I can assure you, that the words you read are the real, authentic, crazy, most-times over analytical, often-times crying, always-internally joyful, Bethany. I would give nothing less.

So, please accept my apology for being absent; for the lack of encouragement recently, and for unintentionally leaving people out of the updates on my life in Pittsburgh.

Now back to this "funk." It was awful. Whenever I have found myself in one, it has been demoralizing, self-harming, and all around depressing. Anxiety reached levels it never had before, and the loss of my appetite had never lasted so long. Any outstretch to seek help was not helping, and the answer I was looking for could not be found...even where I thought I could be confident to find it.

If I wanted to make this post super eye-opening and ear-catching, I would tell you that my way out of this "funk" was through a spiritually-high, jaw-dropping, tear-jerking moment---but it really wasn't. Coming out of this "funk" was loooonnnnnggggg, and frustrating. There have been moments where I have questioned God's goodness, His presence, His Will, etc. in the past, but circumstances were quite different now: I am in a whole new city, on my own, on a secular campus, without a Christian community at arms reach, and without someone to tangibly vent to on a daily basis. If I were to give grace to myself anywhere at all, it would be there: that I have experienced a LOT of change within the last five months, and much of that change is unrelated to grad school completely. Yet, in case you have not experienced this yourself, I find extending grace to the one in the mirror is quite the challenge. If anyone came to me presenting these concerns, it would be simple for me to open the Bible, refer them to this amazing worship song, or sit them down to pray. However, when it comes to me, it is as if everything I have ever known about God has gone completely out the door. Why is that?! I cannot stand it!

If spiritual amnesia is a legit thing, I am diagnosing myself with it. In all seriousness, this is the component about my walk with the Lord that ties me up, gets me in a rut, and holds me down. I thought that I have experienced freedom from such bondage, but the practicality of the freedom confuses me. I journal ALL the time, I reflect ALL the time, and I share with others ALL the time. How is it possible that I still forget about God's goodness, mercy, love, and power whenever I am afraid, lost, confused, doubtful, or concerned?

I am sure you have heard the line, "If He did it before, He can do it again." Well, that was hard to believe too. I attempted everything I could to remind myself of Who He is, and yet the chains of anxiety choked me night and day. Literally. I had anxiety about having anxiety. Ugh.

Be careful to not read my words as a cry for pity. No no no, what I am doing is setting the stage for what was my reality before my Christmas miracle. If you read nothing else, know that I am striving to first give God all the glory, and to secondly point others (you) to His goodness, mercy, love, and power.

As embarrassed as I am to admit that I fall into spiritual amnesia more than I would ever like to, it happened yet again. Classes were always difficult since beginning grad school, but I never quite gained my rhythm like I hoped I would. I always felt like I was playing catch up, despite me doing my absolute best to prepare for lectures ahead of time. I even took my lunch breaks to study while I munched. As soon as I would get on the bus to go home, I opened the books again. Nonstop studying in grad school is supposedly normal, so okay, cool. But what about constantly giving your all and not measuring up? Is that normal in grad school?

Comparison is something everyone struggles with in their life at some point or another, but my efforts to avoid such traps grew more and more impossible as the semester went on. To try and describe anxiety to another person has become the most difficult and aggravating thing to articulate for someone as self-reflective as myself. I never intended to look antisocial, or come across as holier-than-thou, but I cannot stand to be around negativity. Especially when my brain does such a great job at producing it naturally. Thus, comparing the success of others (whom seem to be very confident and outwardly explicit about their passing grades) to my nearly-missing-the-mark performance, became as natural as breathing air. Again, no matter how strategically I planned to avoid the very components that fed into my self-worthlessness, anxiety, depression, worry, negativity, fear, or failure, they found me around every corner.

But I did not stop. I think that is just what the enemy would have wanted to happen. I praise God that while I never felt, heard, or saw Him, He drew me to Himself. Through the Word, my ukulele, prayer and my journal, I kept going. Now, to "keep going," involved what felt like no moving whatsoever. Through my diligence of reaching up and and reaching out to the Lord, I anticipated and expected Him to show me something or to tell me something...but He never did. He was completely silent. He was completely still.

I asked Him with every breath I took, "Why have You called me to be a PT, Lord, if failure would be the result? Why would You bring me this far, just for a door to be closed? Do You still want me to be a PT? Did You ever want me to be a PT? " Like I have previously mentioned, there have been plenty of moments where I have questioned God's Will for my life, but never have I questioned it specifically for my choice of occupation this much. It is SCARY to set your life up, with this very specific plan A, and to not have a plan B in place. For me, becoming a PT is what I thought the Lord wanted...but this semester led me to ask myself a different question: do I want to be a PT more than I want God?

Yikes.

The obvious, Sunday-school answer I journaled one night as I was reflecting was, "Of course not, Lord. I want You first! I want You most! I want only You if that is all I could ever have!" Sounds nice. Sounds like the right answer. Sounds like the answer God would want. But was it my answer? ---no, not right away.

I thought more. I journaled more. I prayed more.

...the semester went on....

I thought more. I journaled more. I prayed more.

...the semester was coming to a quick close...

I thought more. I journal more. I prayed more.

...the semester ended...

I came to my answer. No, I did [and still do] not want to be a PT more than I want God.

As friends and family would ask me, "How are you doing?" I would honestly answer, "I am not doing the best, but if I fail out of PT school, it is going to be because I failed trying, not because I failed by giving up." This semester was the hardest semester of my entire academic career. I knew it would be hard, but I had no idea it would be this hard.

Oh yeah, so about that Christmas miracle...well, I PASSED MY FIRST SEMESTER OF PT GRADUATE SCHOOL!!!!

You know me, the professional, long, drawn-out, exaggerated, must-give-every-detail, story teller. Yet, this is what makes me, me. While I still struggle with components of my worth, I recognize the beauty in that God created me with the mind and emotions I have, so why not embrace them fully. I just happen to be taking you along on this crazy journey if you so choose to read, so thank you :)

Was this a close one? OH YEAH. Did I think I was going to fail and have to fall back on my nonexistent plan B? OH YEAH-er (=a greater level of "oh yeah"). Did I think God could pull me through? OH YEAH-est (=the highest level of "oh yea").

Bethany interviewing Bethany

Q: What was the most difficult part of your first semester at grad school?

A: Everything.

Q: What do you wish you could change?

A: How I view God in me.

Q: What was the best part?

A: Being so close to the crown of God's creation! (the most elegant way I can say "studying cadavers.")

Q: What do you see yourself doing in 2 years?

A: Walking across the stage, receiving my doctorate of physical therapy degree, Lord-willing. *tears*

Okay, random interview over. What I wanted to share with that is the reality I still find myself in. I recognize that what God may call me to is not clear. I wish it were. I also recognize that God sees me waaaaaaaay differently than I see myself, and I am daily praying for Him to work on me with that. More than anything else, I recognize that God has blessed me. Do I know if He wants me to be a PT? -not at all. But out of faith, I am continuing to press on, pursuing my DPT.

Do I believe in miracles? I sure do. God sending His Son, Jesus raising from death to life, and my personal heart story are enough for me to believe. Yet God gives me the grace to know His goodness, mercy, love and power on a deeper level by choosing to show me additional miracles. This Christmas, my miracle was passing the impossible. There is no way that I did this in my own strength. There is no way that I should I have made it. He was my strength. He made a way. Miracles do happen.

If it had not been for those who interceded on my behalf through prayer, made the phone calls to check in, or visited when I needed them most, I would not made it through. Every single day, for the last two months, I wanted to give up. I would say I wanted to pack my bags and leave, but I love the city of Pittsburgh too much to do all that haha. But I really did want to quit and leave the PT "dream" behind. I knew that was not an option because when I prayed, I did not ask God for A's. I asked Him for His Will and success in His eyes. That is a dangerous prayer for a perfectionist, let me tell you. So, when I say failure was on the brink, I am not exaggerating. Thus, the temptation to quit before ever being told I failed seemed like the better route. WRONG.

You see, this entire time, I was fooling myself that because I have God on my side, because I know God is for me and not against me, because I know God loves me, that success would be obvious. Yet, this takes me right back to what I truly value. Success as God sees it? -or success as the world sees it?

For the last two weeks of the semester, which fell over finals, the Lord placed John 14 on my heart. Specifically verse 27:

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."

That is the kicker! The Lord is not me. The Lord is not the world. The Lord is I AM. Allow that to take as long as it needs to sink in. For me, it took more than those two weeks of finals, because it is still sinking in even now. All of the tears I shed this semester, all of the yelling out to God, and the many times I threw myself to the floor begging for more of Him, were all in exchange for this peace. Peace that only He can give.

I began to read this verse over and over, I wrote it down, and before every exam I said it out loud. It became my cry, my prayer, and my praise.

Then, the Lord also gave me a song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g6_BLuhr0HQ

Every morning and evening, for two whole weeks, this song also became my cry, my prayer, and my praise. Friends, family, readers, let me remind you that in the midst of God's silence and stillness, He is active. That silence and stillness is our perspective. His view of success is not our view. His love for us far outweighs our own self-love. Yet yet yet, He calls us to seek Him in the silence and stillness. He calls us to pursue His success. And He calls us to develop His type of love.

Yeah, I wrote a ton here, but more than a success story, what I pray you have read is a letter of a deep and painful cry that has become an even deeper and joyful praise. Where I have longed to hear God say, "Well done my good and faithful servant," I actually think I am beginning to finally hear His whisper...

Takeaway Challenge

Have you been seeking God for something? Have you been praying for something? Have you wondered what is God's Will for your life?

Well, do not give up. Keep reaching out, and more importantly keep reaching up.

My particular story is within the realm of grad school, but yours may be a job, a relationship, finances, health, etc. No matter the story, find your cry, find your prayer, and find your praise.

This Christmas, be reminded that God not only performed a miracle in sending His Son to us over 2,000 years ago, but He still, to this very day, performs miracles. Even though He does not have to, He does so. Why? So that we may know Him, believe Him, trust Him, follow Him, and live for Him.

What is your Christmas miracle?

Bonus Material

This is one of my favorite songs, "Desert Song, " and I found the lyrics to ring so true to my position in these moments. When you have a praise in your spirit, let it out.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-YKzmF5vmBY

As always, if this post blessed you in any way, or brought someone to your mind, please be sure to share it! Much love and peace to you, friends, and Merry Christmas!!!