Me Before You- Do Implicit Messages Matter?

If you haven’t yet read this book or watched the movie, I should warn you that this will have spoilers. But also, I’m going to recommend that you skip watching it (I honestly can’t remember the last time I actively recommended that people avoid a movie I had seen, this is so weird) so just accept the spoilers, read this post, and move on with your life without subjecting yourself to the movie.

I was expecting a tragic love story. I had watched the trailers, and I was prepared to cry (although to be totally fair, I hadn't actually read the book so I had only vague ideas about the ending and was thus not totally prepared) The movie did produce many tears, but they were unexpectedly angry tears. This was initially because I was angry and frustrated at Will Traynor deciding to end his life, upset at what seemed like a selfish decision that if he couldn’t have life on his terms, he wouldn’t live at all. I started my cry hurt by the devastating choice a fictional character was making, but I quickly moved on to being angry about the people selling me this story.

I wanted a love story and what I got instead was a depressed man insisting on his own autonomy while simultaneously attempting to convince a woman that the choices she is making about her life are a waste of her potential and that she needs to live differently. Her feelings grow from “I hate this job and I don’t want you to die” to “I guess I have feelings for you and I still don’t want you to die.” Meanwhile, both of them manipulate and keep things from each other. Now, don’t get me wrong, this is Hollywood and I don’t expect too much in terms of a love story, but the climax of their "romance" seemed to be that, as Samuel James wrote, “Louisa finally receives his affection, but his true love remains his life before the accident.” This movie has less to say about love and more to say about disability, human value, and what makes life meaningful, and these messages are where things get really disturbing.

Essentially, the message this movie sends is “If you are disabled in some way that you feel prevents you from living life the way you want to, death is a totally acceptable option. And if you truly love someone and they want to die, you will accept their choice and be there for them in the way that they want you to be.” Someone else curtly summed it up as "Live boldly... unless you are in a wheelchair".

“I can’t live the life I want so I should die” is simply, deeply, untrue. And before you tell me that it's okay for the movie to make that truth claim, or not okay for me to reject it because 'some people in his situation actually feel that way'... let's address that.

First of all, Will is a fictional character created by an able-bodied woman who knew nothing about quadriplegia prior to writing this book, and who somehow managed to avoid talking to a single person with quadriplegia during the course of her extensive medical research on the topic. Will represents less an actual person experiencing a life changing disability than he represents able-bodied people's perceptions of disability. As many disabled people have already expressed with much more eloquence and authority than I have, this movie perpetuates harmful stereotypes about disability while eliminating realistic pictures of what daily life with disability looks like (one can only assume because the makers find the realities of disability distasteful, shameful, or perhaps just unromantic). Secondly, regarding the 'someone somewhere actually feels that way' sentiment...  if I actually came across someone with a spinal cord injury that resulted in quadriplegia who felt hopeless and depressed and wanted to die, I would like to think that I could compassionately respond to them in a way that validates their experience and emotions without agreeing with them that they should die.

As I have said, disability activists have pretty clearly expressed the various problems with this story and the way that it was told, both from a community perspective as well as their own experiences. But I haven't heard voices speaking up on behalf of those who are depressed and suicidal, and so I would like to make one additional point.

For more than a decade now, we have been sending able-bodied and exceptionally fit men and women in the prime of their lives to go fight wars for our country. And many of them have come home with life-altering injuries. They have demonstrated totally understandable difficulties adjusting to civilian life post-injury, not the least of which because they devoted years to a mission that they are no longer a part of. That loss of purpose, as well as the daily realities of life with a disability, takes a heavy emotional toll, and is a contributing factor to the high rate of veteran suicide. What is that rate, you wonder? 22 people. Every. Day.

Maybe I am biased. Perhaps I am overly sensitive because of the work that I do, but in our current climate, do we really need the implicit messages in Me Before You? Are they what we should be telling people struggling with depression and suicide? Are they what we should be telling their families and friends?

Can we agree that anyone taking their own life is tragic? Because I think it is possible, if we don't pay attention to the messages filtering through our experiences, to become nonchalant and lackadaisical about this truth. And I think it is possible, if we aren't careful about the messages we are tacitly supporting, that real harm might be done in the lives of real people.  Either we decide, as a community, that life is valuable, so we support each other and fight for each other and help others find meaning and purpose in life, or... we decide its a grey area and don't fight and people die.

Perhaps you think this is over dramatic. I can accept that, and I will simply say, just in case the messages that we send matter: Every person is valuable, regardless of ability or disability. Every life has meaning, even in the midst of difficulty. Everyone should live boldly. Everyone should live.

Father's Day (When Yours Is Not Everything You Dreamed Of)

Father's day is a joyful day for most people, but can be a painful reminder for others. Children whose relationships with their fathers are marred by conflict, hurt, separation, and even death often don't enjoy celebrating Father's Day or watching others celebrate. I know of this from personal experience, and I suspect as well that some fathers may have difficult feelings on this day, as they are reminded of brokenness in their lives and the lives of their children.

Despite the way the Lord has been graciously working in my relationship with my father, I admit that I still don't always handle Father's Day very well, particularly in a church that celebrates fathers on this Sunday with great joy. But I am getting better at it! Two years ago was unexpectedly rough. One of my friends stood in front of our church and read a beautiful letter to her dad honoring him for the blessing he is to her. I, meanwhile, stood in the back of the church and cried, hoping that no one would see me. I didn't want to deal with anyone else noticing or trying to comfort me because I was busy being surprised and confused by myself... after all, my relationship with my dad

at the time was the best that it had been in years. Still, there was a sense of loss in realizing that I wished my father fit the description in that loving letter my friend shared.

So last year, I instituted some rules suggestions I created for myself, and they made a difference. This year, I am sharing them for anyone else who might struggle to deal with Father's Day when your father isn't everything you dreamed of.

See how inclusive this category is? Some people experience deep and serious hurt from the man who was supposed to love and protect them. Many others experience disappointment with their father at some point or another. I don't want to evaluate and compare this pain but rather come alongside and tell you: I have experienced pain, too. And it has made this day difficult for me. I hope some of the things that have helped me might help you, too.

1) Acknowledge and grieve what you have lost, and turn to your heavenly father for comfort. Healing always involves examining the wound, doesn't it? Whether you have a gash in your leg, a traumatic experience, or a person who has wronged you, you have to take a good look to figure out the extent of the injury before treating it. Just as forgiveness requires you to determine the debt owed before you can forgive that debt, I encourage you to identify the cause of your present pain. And what better person to seek comfort for that pain from than our heavenly father? He sees your hurt, and he longs to embrace you. You have a father who wants to comfort you and wipe away your tears with promises of "It's okay, Daddy is here."

2) Dwell on the ways that God is your perfect father. My earthly father is not everything I've hoped he would be. But my heavenly father is and more. In fact, in every way your earthly father lacks, your heavenly father overflows with abundance. He is tender. He is strong. He is kind. He is present. He is gracious. He is good. Above all, he loves you with an everlasting, unfailing, unconditional love. What aspects of your Father God minister to your heart and fill an aching hole you wanted your father to fill? Think of those things.

3) Consider how your experiences might equip you to care for and minister to others. Your sorrows do not have to be only painful. They can also be used, if you choose, to help other people. Maybe someone will open up to you about their life, only to find that you can empathize with them. Maybe you will see someone hurting in the midst of a situation similar to yours, and you will be able to walk with them through it. Maybe you will be a different kind of parent to your own children, and help others to be a different kind of parent. How might God redeem the pain you have felt, so that you can look back at it and say "God used it for good. He was at work in my life"?

4) Recognize that today does not have to be defined by your feelings. (My actual note to myself reads "Recognize that not everything today has to revolve around you".) Particularly if you have already taken time for yourself and your emotions in suggestion 1, I think it is acceptable and appropriate to choose not to dwell on them all day long. For me, Sunday morning of Father's Day offers examples of people I could be thinking about besides myself... look at those little kids who love their daddies! Look at that faithful grandpa who loved his children well and raised them to be parents who love their children well! Look at that first time dad! *Pray for that first time dad! ;) Look at that dad who is raising his teenage boys to be God fearing, women honoring men! Remember that Father's Day is a celebration of fathers everywhere, not just your own father, and that there are fathers around you who make your heart celebrate joyfully even if your feelings about your own father are more complex.

I hope you find these give you peace and help you to choose joy. My relationship with my dad and some of the mess in my heart still needs work, but I am grateful for the way that my Father God is at work both in my life and my heart.

Radio Silence

When things are hard, I don't write about them. It doesn't matter if these are messages to friends, journal entries, or blog posts for anyone to see. I just stop writing.

The result is that there are months and whole years of my life that I have no written record of. Not only is that frustrating because of the good things that happened during those times that I wish I could remember, but also because I don't remember the struggles well anymore either. Looking back, I wish that I had fought through it and written something down so I could go back later and understand how I was feeling once I wasn't in that place anymore. Instead, all I have are angst-y teenage playlists to deduce what I was going though.

Alas, I have pretty much done it again. Things have been hard and I have disappeared. Part of me is totally fine with this because the internet is not my diary, but I also dislike the tendency to whitewash our social media presence. It feels vaguely dishonest. So without further ado...

I was so looking forward to the day I could announce to you all where I was going to grad school and set a date for the finale of the postbac blog. But that isn't going to happen this year because, despite my best efforts, I didn't get a grad school offer.

Honestly, it's kind of devastating. I thought I would be over it by now but I'm not. I'm still disappointed, even though I am grateful to have a job and mentors who support me and remind me that "a one year setback for a PhD isn't that big of a deal". I'm not excited about basically repeating this past year of my life when I was so looking forward to moving on to the next step, but that's where I am.

I seriously considered calling it a wrap here, because I haven't been inclined to blog and I'm not super excited right now about still being a postbac. But then someone blogged vulnerably about all the stuff they had been through in the last year and I was encouraged by it. And then another person wrote about good things they are learning, and I was excited about it. And then someone else mused insightfully about something they cared about, and it made me think. I'm grateful when people let me see inside their minds and share their lives; it is one of the ways that I feel connected to others in the cyber-world where we spend so much time. All that to say, the catblog continues.

Also, I still have adorable cats, obviously

So here I am! Still in Frederick, still loving Jesus, and still passionate about clinical psych. There are good moments mixed in with the hard, as always, and every once and awhile, I get tiny glimpses that this season I don't want to be in might turn out to be a sweet time. Here's hoping that there is truth in that, and someday I may look back and be grateful for the current chapter.

Not So Great Expectations

I thought everything would be better once I got my grad applications in.

Oops.

It seems that I have, probably for the hundredth time, mistakenly thought that I was about to get to a place in life where things would be easy... easy enough, that is, for me to do it by myself. I was expecting to reach this point right now and not desperately need Jesus.

Oh what a mistake. It's always such a mistake.

...Because the first half of January got me. I felt overwhelmed and I wanted to crawl under my desk and not do a single thing that apparently all need to be done at that very moment. And in the midst of this overwhelmed feeling, I thought, "It wasn't supposed to be like this!" I was angry because my expectations were inaccurate and I wasn't prepared for the way I was feeling.

Then in the midst of my midst of my frustration and dismay one week, I tuned in to the words playing on my (totally non-Christian music) Pandora station:

...Here I raise mine ebenezer, hither by thy help I've come
And I hope, by thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home
Jesus sought me when a stranger wandering from the fold of God
he to rescue me from danger interposed his precious blood

Oh to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be
let thy goodness like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee
prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love
Here's my heart Lord take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above

I suppose I can add "impromptu rendition of my favorite hymn in the middle of a hard day" to my list of things to be thankful for...

The point is that I need grace every day. I need Jesus every day. It's to today, by His help, that I've come, and it's up to Him for me to safely arrive at my (eternal) home. But there is some prideful part of me that continues thinking that I can be independent and that I should be unless it's necessary to depend on God for something that's too hard for me to handle. That is not how life works at all, and unconsciously assessing whether I'll be able to make it through the day on my own sets me up for epic failure... or at least unnecessarily stressful days.

So today some of the responsibilities that were overwhelming me in January are completed. Others have been added to the list. But I'll be okay, because Christ's grace covers me today, like it does every day.

Space To Create

I wrote the beginning of this sometime in July in a 15-minute flurry of words while samples were in a thermal cycler... I had a break from this but life is back to feeling intense as I focus on grad school applications, and I am sure it will be relevant at other stages as well. 

Some days I feel like my creativity is going to shrivel up and die... that I will no longer be able to create beautiful things with words, notes, or colors. I fear that one day, creating beautiful things will no longer feel right to me.

It certainly doesn't feel like I am cultivating a love or skill for creating. I haven't blogged in months. I haven't read a new book in weeks. I don't remember the last time I sat down at the piano. I spend all day with numbers... from miRNA protocols and data analysis in the morning to lists of graduate programs in the afternoon and finally GRE math review at night. Every day is scheduled tightly, more numbers telling me what I should be accomplishing at any given hour.

Mostly, I am loving the challenge. I have so many things to accomplish, so many tasks to cross off the list. I have a goal that feels much more tangible than it has for the last year. I have sub-goals categorized neatly in my google calendar. I need to follow the schedule exactly and give 100% because there is so much going on that a slight derailment of the plan leads to breakdown and tears over quantitative comparison questions (although, to be fair, the quant comp questions make a concerted effort to induce tears on their own). Essentially, I am feeling very purpose-driven, which is a familiar and generally preferred state of being for me. This is what much of college was like.

And yet, I miss the peace and quiet to simply observe the world around me. I miss reflecting on what I see through creating... creating anything other than scientific papers, that is. There is much drive in my life at the moment but not a lot of passionate creativity.

How do I create space to... create?

Several months later and I still don't have an answer. I am knitting when I have the chance, and I am enjoying sunrises on my way to work. Sometimes I just let myself talk about clinical psych (and the gospel) without trying to answer essay questions or write personal statements.

I'm mostly relying on the ebb and flow of busyness, knowing that this season will end if I just work hard and finish it. But I would love if I could learn to be busy without shutting down this aspect of my personality... since to the best of my knowledge, there will be busy seasons forever :)

Hopefully I will work this out eventually, and in the meantime, advice would be appreciated if you have any. Lady M and Elizabeth have no sympathy of course, since they maintain busy schedules of sleeping, eating, and intimidating any humans who visit their house and still manage to stare out the windows and contemplate life at length.

Who Do You Want To Be?

Yesterday, a dear woman left this life to be with Jesus. For those of you who have followed Kara Tippetts' journey through her blog Mundane Faithfulness, you already know how amazing she was, what an impact she had on the lives of people around her, and how much she will be missed by those who loved her.

As I read some of her last posts and those of her husband and friends from the past few weeks, I was-as always-overcome with a wash of emotions. With her simple, deep eloquence, she revealed things I didn't know about our visible and invisible lives, and my heart was stirred. Grief and hope, hurt and joy welled up within me, with an added blend of encouragement and discouragement.

Encouragement: Have you gotten a glimpse of this woman's life? It was beautiful. She was beautiful. Over and over, the people who love her spoke of her genuine kindness and her gift of loving people. Her deep trust and reliance on Jesus was so evident; she helped people (me) to see Jesus more clearly. Her personality was so precious and unique, her giftings from the Lord were poured out and used for his glory. I want to be more like that. I want to be Kara.

Discouragement: I am not Kara. Becoming like her seems impossible in some ways and actually is impossible in others. I am yearning to be something I am not, a cricket watching a butterfly.

The fog and gloom of this winter is slowly lifting, and I am starting to feel myself coming alive again. I am beginning to care about things and it feels so good. But as the apathy begins to fade, I am seeing so much of myself that I don't want to see, and I am dissatisfied with who I am. It's like I have this annoying girl with me all the time that I can't get away from, and she is NEVER going to be like the women I aspire to be.

But I am not meant to be Kara. I am not meant to be Corrie, or Susanna, or Amy, or Kim, or Marty (although they are all beautiful examples).

I am meant to be like Jesus.

And I am promised the Holy Spirit to help me become more like Jesus. And I am promised that it is not just up to me, that God WILL make it happen.

"Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is." -1 John 3:2

Go back and actually read that verse. Think about it. 

As I become more like Jesus, I feel more like myself, the self I was meant to be. I remember this feeling of becoming myself, even though I don't feel it right now. 

I think it is okay to yearn for transformation, to desire to be someone you are not (yet). Often for me, this feeling is a companion of conviction, and the desire to partner with God in his work is a good thing! But ultimately I am being transformed, which is a passive verb. I am watching and being amazed at what God is doing with my life. Well, at the moment, I am not seeing what God is doing. But I am asking him to work, and waiting expectantly to be amazed. 

Because God can do something even more amazing than making me like Kara Tippetts. He can make me like Jesus. 

When Life Gives You Snow, Go To Snowball

Last weekend, I went up to Gettysburg for Snowball, because I only live an hour away and there were friends and a big band and swing music, so really why not?

Except I wasn't sure it was a good idea. I try not to go to Gettysburg when I am feeling particularly sad or discontent with life, because college was great but I'm not a student anymore, and I don't want to try (in vain) to hold on to something that God gave and took away at the proper time. Also, I like be able to pour into friends I visit when I am there, to listen to them and encourage them. I don't want my Gburg visits to consist of me lounging around complaining about my life.

And let's be real... sad, discontent, and lounging around all describe this winter very well. I have always disliked winter, but I have never been so consistently depressed (for lack of a better word that doesn't connote clinical diagnosis) as I have this year. Its wearing me down. I don't like being sad and unmotivated all the time. I really want to care about life again.

But anyway, I went to Gettysburg. And it was the most delightful thing! I got to catch up with dear friends, put on a fancy dress, get my hair done (oh, the joy of friends to fix your hair), and went swing dancing. And then, because that wasn't glorious enough, the next morning I went to Hanover Valley Presbyterian Church for the first time since graduation, enjoyed a wonderful service, hugged more dear friends, met precious friends' new children, and got more life-giving people time. It was so encouraging to hear what God is doing on campus and in the hearts of people I love there. It was so encouraging to be reunited with church family and worship God together. It was so encouraging to wear heels and dance for hours. Why had I stayed away from Gettysburg for so long?

Sometimes, my pride in thinking I know what is best for me might get in the way of what is actually best for me. 

This morning in church, we were singing this lovely song, Good Good Father, (I'm just waiting for warm weather and a guitar player so we can sit outside and sing this with delightful harmonies all the time) and this line stuck out to me:

"You know just what we need before we say a word"

Of course I know this is true, but what if this is actually true?!? What if God really knows what I need before I tell him... What if God knows what I need regardless of whether or not I know what I need?

What if he knows that there is something I need more than sunshine and warmth? What if he knows that I have a much more desperate need, and he is fulfilling it without me even asking like the good Father he is? I need His presence daily. I need to be brought to a place where I recognize my need for Him. I need my heart to know that He quenches my thirst and learn to go to Him. I need to be striped of my pride and given a heart full of compassion.

I need a living hope even more than I need springtime. (And as I walked to my car, contemplating these things after the service... the sunshine kissed my face, and a gentle breeze brought a slight scent of spring, even in the midst of all this snow. He's a good, good father.)

Dear Moms Of Kids With Special Needs

Since I am a single, twenty-something college grad with a job, it is possible at first glance for people at church to assume that my life is simple and neat (my life is not neat, but thanks to a decent understanding of fashion and social rules, I can fake it for you on a given Sunday). And because it might look like I come to church just to get lost in the beautiful worship sets, learn something from the intellectually stimulating message, and generally enjoy the aesthetics of a worship service, I feel the need to be especially clear...

Dear Moms of children with special needs;

I LOVE when your kids are in church.

Thank you so much for bringing your family to church. I know it can't be easy. Considering my Sunday morning routine (get myself up, get myself ready, go to church), it's hard for me to know the extent of the effort you go through before your family even makes it through the door. What I do know is that statistically, most parents with children who have special needs choose not to go to church (or go rarely), either from the stress of coordinating logistics, lack of services for their child, feelings of exclusion, or the stress of potential disruptions resulting from their kid's special needs.

Part of my heart cracks a little when I think of all the ways that I am not doing enough to make you feel like you are part of our community, help bear your family's burden, and get to know the treasures that are your kids. God is starting to move my heart in this direction because those are the things that are in his heart, and I am sorry that there are so many ways in which my hands don't yet reflect God's heart. (Isn't that our constant fight??)

But there is one area where I hope I can bring some comfort today: please don't worry about your child causing disruptions during church. Please don't worry that the people around you find your child distracting. Frankly, I love it when church is a little noisy. That's one of the things that I find particularly attractive about our church: the whole church body is there, and they are all participating! It doesn't bother me one bit if your child talks loudly when others are quiet, moves when others are still, or sometimes has difficulty controlling their emotions. Your child's participation in our worship service might be unique, but it is absolutely a benefit, not a detriment.

It's possible that, at some point, you have been discouraged by people who have intimated that your child is 'too old for that kind of behavior' or given you strange looks when you are out in public. I am so sorry if this has happened to you. Satan speaks lies, and he wants you to believe that you and your child are not welcome in church. The truth is that your child is INDISPENSABLE to the body of Christ.

"The body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts, and though all its parts are many, they form one body. So it is with Christ... But in fact God has arranged the parts of the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be... On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor." (1 Corinth 12:12-23)

When your child is doing whatever it is that might embarrass you during the church service, I am most often thinking, "I'm so glad they are here. This is what it looks like to be the body of Christ." Although I don't contemplate the underlying logic in the moment, my reaction is largely for two reasons:

1)Your child belongs in our church-disruptions, challenges and all. Your child has intrinsic value because they have been created in the image and likeness of God (just like every other person in our church). Their adoption into the family of God rests on the righteousness of Christ and his work on the cross (just like every other person in our church). Christ was willing to go to great lengths to make your child a co-heir with himself, and since Christ has made your child part of the family, they belong. End of story.

2) Our church needs your child. God created your child uniquely, and the church would be incomplete without them. They are absolutely necessary. They are crucial. Being part of the body means that in addition to having intrinsic value, your child has a purpose as a part of our church. God is using your child to teach our church. God is using your child to encourage our church. God is using your child to display His glory to our church. They have things to contribute as a member of our church family, and we need them.

Your child's presence at church is no accident. It is also no small feat. Although I don't know if the blood, sweat, and tears required on your part are literal or figurative, I do know that when your child is at church, it is by your effort. I know that your family's presence at church is statistically rare, and eternally significant. Thank you for persevering in the face of difficulty, for coming to worship the Lord with us, and for letting your child be a part of our church. I am so glad they are here.

From my heart,

Christiana

P.S. Moms of little ones, I wanted to include you here, but I had too many things to say. Just know that I love it when you bring your children to church for both similar and different reasons, and I will have to express my gratitude some other time.

Tales From The Other Side

In a shocking (cue sarcastic voice) and very unexpected turn of events in the tale of my heart being an idol factory, it turns out that even though I now have a job, I am still a sinner. On the bright side, I am now both a sinner and a gainfully employed person, so I feel like it is a net improvement.

So first things first… long awaited positive news from the job-hunting adventure! I was offered a fellowship position in January at the National Institute of Nursing Research. And I accepted it… but paperwork happens slowly here, so I didn’t start until March. I’m working at the National Institutes of Health main campus in Bethesda, where I am doing genomics and epigenetics(!!) research for studies of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, mild Traumatic Brain Injury, and Phantom Limb Pain (mostly) . So the physical work I am doing is straight genetics, but the big picture is psychology (I get the feeling that the NINR researches whatever it feels like, which is convenient for me because… genomic psychology?!?! I’m sure it is related to nursing. Somehow. And I love it.) The PTSD and Phantom Limb studies are both in populations of Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans, and I think the only way I could possibly be more excited about the PTSD study would be if they would let me walk across the street to Walter Reed Army Medical Center and help with the clinical phenotyping. The mTBI study is in a population of student athletes, and although I haven’t figured out how you get a concussion playing basketball (trip and hit your head? Hit another player with your head? Hit the backboard with your head? So confusing compared to the logical football/soccer/hockey concussions), the rest of the study is straightforward, as far as epigenetics goes, and should be interesting like the other two projects.

Proverb holding the fort.
If the fort was a bag.

I say “should be interesting” because I haven’t really done much yet. Thankfully it took me less than two weeks to take the safety courses I needed to take (again) in order to work in a lab with potential blood borne pathogens. Then I held the fort while my boss was out all of last week. (You do not hold down the fort. The fort is not inflatable. In this particular case, the fort is a lab with a -80°^C freezer that I am organizing within an inch of its life.) So while I told myself that I would just ‘wait until I start my new job’ to blog about it, and then told myself I would just ‘wait until I actually start working on something,’ time trickled away. Sorry, team. I am still learning that exciting is relative, and writing about real life is not going to flow like a good book.

Instead, life seems to be flowing, slowly, in circles. Like I mentioned at the beginning, it turns out that even though I now have the thing that I wanted,  didn’t have, and spent considerable energy pursuing for the past ten months, getting a job did not resolve all the struggles I had before I had a job. In fact, it was an almost laughable moment when I realized-on the day I accepted my job offer-that I had been subconsciously building up a job in my heart as the solution to all my problems and was disappointed to learn that the real thing did not live up to expectations. I did not really have more control over my life than I did before; I did not have the security that I desperately wanted. My new job was not a guarantee that I would get into the grad school of my dreams, there was no way to know for sure that working at NIH would make me happy, and this job would not secure the rest of my career and assure my success. And now that I am working, what do I struggle with on a daily basis? Yep, it's the same old stuff. Turns out I am not magically better at being content, resting in my identity in Christ, etc. now that I have a job. 

Basically, I still have to trust God’s control in my life for security. I still have to look to him rather than choosing to worry about my future. I still have to seek him for real contentment. But I also get to extract DNA while I do those things. Life is good :)

P.S. Here are some other struggles that aren't fixed by a job. I don't really mind most of them, though...