please pray for me, again

The wait for my results was excruciatingly long, with furtive checking for results on the uni's website several times a day. Then yesterday I opened it up and there they were: a few little numbers that would reflect my efforts, my sleepless nights, my profoundly-felt absences from my child, my months and months of being ragged with juggling parenting, studies, church commitments and work. It had been a roller-coaster of a year.

The first split second glance assured me I had passed all my courses. Oh Frabjous day! *

As I inspected more closely, I worked out which assignments had contributed to each mark - each assignment handed in on time a small miracle in itself. As I called to mind all those assignments and portfolios I remembered how close to giving up I'd been at one point, being hopelessly behind in all my courses. I'd been weighing up which course I should drop so that I could at least focus on one course properly. I'd counted how many hours each assignment and each report would take, counted how many hours (yes hours, not days) I had left until my final portfolio had to be handed in, and realised there was no possible way of getting it all done, without cheating.

Breaking point.

I spent two days staggering around completely bleaked-out, feeling like it was insurmountable. I sent out some half-hearted requests to close friends to please pray for me, again, feeling like a lost cause, that friend who always needs support.


And then hope broke through!

My long-suffering husband and wonderful friends began praying, and light started penetrating my two-day-thick fog of despair. Like most spiritual warfare I've encountered, joy started bursting through in tiny but powerful rivulets - irrepressible songs looping through my mind until I had no choice but to sing them out, beautiful beaming smiles from strangers, my jasmine bush exploding with buds, looking up from my laptop at 4:30am and seeing the first shy blush of dawn - until suddenly I found strength and could imagine carrying on. I found I was able to pray again - all praying had ceased during the "fog" - and every time I mentioned my fear of not being able to complete all the work, the Still Small Voice whispered "Just do what you can, and I will do the rest."

Just doing what I can meant allowing myself to sleep a bit more so that I wasn't ragged with exhaustion and horrible to live with. Just doing what I can meant taking a brisk walk with my dogs and my son each afternoon, to release some stress. Just doing what I can meant being honest with my supervisor about how far behind I actually was, only to be amazed by her response, "Just do what you can."

Looking at my results I can hardly believe that I passed all the courses, and for the one course I was considering dropping in order to focus on the others, I got a distinction. This was not possible in my own strength. First hand experience of Jehovah's goodness, of His power made perfect in my weakness, of being lifted by the prayers of faithful friends.



* Jabberwocky reference - Lewis Carroll