Tuesday, December 11, 2012

I kneel down hold my ground...

Tell me again why I've decided to go to grad school?  Wait, let me correct that.  Why I decided to APPLY to grad school.  I'm beginning to feel very certain that I'm not going to get accepted ANYWHERE.  And it's driving me nuts.  I wrote the world's crappiest personal statement on Saturday and it's got me wondering... what am I thinking?  Why do I think I'll get accepted into a program that I know nothing about?  Like, I seriously know presque rien, or nearly zilch for my anglophones, about the field of social work.  I just know that it's where I want to be.  I know that I was made to help people.  And I know that God's okay with me doing this.  Well, I think He's okay with it.  I've been so doubty about my own abilities lately that it's hard to tell.  DUDE.  Did you know there's a spiritual gift of being able to discern whether an inspiration comes from God or some other source???  I just read that during my studies on Sunday.  I am soooooo putting my name on the list for that one!

Anyway.

I was talking to Felipe the other night, you know, when he wasn't cheating on me with his REAL girlfriend, the TEXT BOOK.  Ohhhh yes, I know how much time he spends with her.  They go to the library.  He takes her home.  He even takes her to the cadaver lab... When I see her in MY seat in his car I could scream with rage.  That little....

Bref. Talking to Felipe, and ... crud.  I forgot what I was going to say.  I'm sure it was deep and important.  Cruddy cruddy crud crud OH!

I remember.

So, I was talking to Felipe about grad programs and he was doing his very best to convince me that I'm beyond stupid if I think I'm not going to get accepted.  I expressed my concern that maybe I was making a big mistake, and then I realized that God won't let me if I'm being righteous.  He asked what I meant.  Then I gave him the best example I could.  It has now been long enough since this experience that I'm actually able to share it without feeling bitter or sad.

So.  I was freaked out about dating when I came home from my mission.  Kim can testify of this.  Yeah.  Totally wigged.  But when I came home, a man that I greatly loved and admired told me that he loved me and wanted to marry me.  I was so taken aback, I didn't know how to respond.  But I knew that I would LOVE to marry him... once I got to know him better.  For three months he courted me, and for three months I couldn't decide.  Finally, after two weeks in the wilderness, I realized that I couldn't marry him.  That just like my job in the wilderness, the idea of him was wonderful, but I didn't really want him.  He wasn't the right one for me.  I wasn't the right one for him.  That was hard, sad, and difficult to express, but I finally did.

Two weeks after that, another boy caught my eye and asked me out.  I enjoyed my time with him, but something wasn't right.  Well, two things weren't right: he wasn't as committed to the gospel as I was, and.... I was kinda in love with another guy.  I say kinda because I didn't know him well enough to be REALLY in love with him.  But what I knew I loved.  Anyway, so I tell this boy that's trying to date me that I'd like to continue dating him and see where it goes.  But he needed to know that I had very strong feelings for another boy... who was serving a mission at that time and returning in two months.  He said he was willing to take his chances, and thus began our relationship.  I almost broke up with him like three times, and begged the Lord to tell me what to do.  He trusted me enough to try and figure it out.

Things started to get serious with this boy, so much so that even my dad noticed.  "You're not checking the mailbox every day, Kacey.  Has Kyle talked to you about marriage?" I nearly choked on my chili relleno, and said, No.  He hasn't.  His comment did make me realize that I was thinking less and less about my missionary. "My Missionary," ha.  We'd never dated, never talked about dating, never even alluded to it.  He was just the man I cared about who happened to be a missionary at that time.  Anyway, there was this one weekend where everything came together perfectly and I realized I soon would want to marry this boy.  That  was odd for me.  I told him, "If someone asked me to pick between you and him four days ago, I would have picked him in a heartbeat. But if they asked tomorrow.... I don't know who I'd pick."

THE NEXT DAY.

I get a letter from my missionary.  He says "I wasn't going to bring this up, but I felt impressed that I should..." He then goes on to tell me that he was aware of my feelings for him and his feelings were similar.

Holy. Crap.

I had four days of solitude babysitting my nieces to figure this one out.  At the end of that week, I knew I had to break up with him.  I HAD to know if my missionary and I could work.  He was my best friend, after all, and doesn't everyone dream of marrying their best friend?

No, it didn't work out between my missionary and I.  I'm not sorry about that.  I'm not sorry that he sent me the letter.  We are still good friends.  I still love him... I'm not IN love with him.  But I love my little BFF.  I know that if I hadn't gotten his letter when I got it... if he'd waited till he got home to say something... I'd have been at the very least engaged.  Engaged to someone who wouldn't help me reach my full potential.

"I'm a home wrecker!" he said when I told him the story.  I laughed and said, "No, you're not.  You saved me from making a huge mistake.  And if we become nothing more than friends, at least know that you were inspired to send that letter when you did."

The Lord trusted me.  But when I almost made a stupid mistake, He beat me over the head with a romantic two by four.

Halleluyar.

So there.  That is proof that if Grad school isn't right for me, God might have someone send me another proverbial letter, right?  If I'm being righteous and trying hard to listen to the Spirit, i won't make major mistakes, right?

Right.  That's what I tell myself.

I'm gunna feel like such a reject if NO grad schools accept me.


This is worse than dating.


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