the interview January 26, 2009

At six-a-m the alarm clock shanghais my last precious moments of dreamless sleep to kick-start my first day back at school. I know it’s going to be long, but I don’t have much time to prepare. I blindly grope my way down from the top bunk and stumble into a lukewarm shower. Forty-five minutes later finds me frantically folding my dress slacks, blouse and jacket and sliding them into my bookbag so I don’t have to rush to get ready for my interview. Speedwalking through the cool January sunrise, I make record time to the lab to start my first day as a research intern. It’s five till seven, but the professor is already in his office brewing the day’s first pot of coffee. Turns out it takes less than an hour to go over this semester’s goals and show me around the facilities, so by eight-oh-five I am out the door with nothing to do. A cup of Jazzy Java keeps me occupied for the ten minutes it takes to walk to the coffee shop and back to the room.

The last thing one needs to do on interview day is to panic. So instead the next two hours are spent reading and dreaming up an embroidery design for the new ottoman until time for Economics. This professor will be interesting, methinks. She has lots of energy and is enthusiastic about her subject. Perhaps even interesting enough for me to move from the third row to the second row of seats. But a glance at the syllabus reveals a critical omission: lunchtime between this class and the next. Sandwich materials are now on the grocery list. Chemistry is the last class before Interview Time, so I stay for little more than half of it before scampering off to the ladies’ room to change clothes and hie me to the pharmacy admissions office.

Twenty minutes to one. Twenty minutes early. Good thing my magazine came in the mail today. But I’m not absorbing anything I read. Prop my elbow on the arm of the chair to disguise my trembling hands. Three other candidates trickle in. Oh good, conversation. Nothing of intelligence to say, though. Can’t focus on the talking any more than the reading. Finally Mr. Admissions Guy calls us into his office and takes pictures for our files and explains the process. Each of us gets half an hour in a team interview with two professors then half an hour to write an essay then a tour of the building and here’s some information about the people who’ll be interviewing you oh my gosh this is it i can’t believe i’m already interviewing for grad school after three semesters of college i hope i make a good impression goodness child stop cracking your knuckles and quit biting your lip you have to appear poised they already know you’re nervous do you have to prove it to them wait a second who’s interviewing me again i missed that part oh well here they are i guess it’s time to go…

Thirty minutes is not a great deal of time unless you’re nervous. They seem nice enough; the one who retrieved me from the office made conversation on the way here and maybe I’ve managed to laugh just enough to loosen up so I’m not shaking. Here’s the office oh good it’s another woman doing the interview. She’s nice too. “Tell us a little about yourself.” oh no i hate that question because there’s so much to tell but i can’t think of any of it ummmmm…. “and that’s how I chose pharmacy.” where did that come from? where have i been the last three minutes? Questions I try to answer clearly and specifically but it feels like I ramble on and on but they keep nodding and scribbling and occasionally they smile so maybe I’m doing alright… “You’ll have to forgive me, I need to think about this one a minute. I’m terrible at impromtu speeches.”

The last question in an interview is always the toughest. It’s the same everywhere I go, but somehow I overlook it when I’m thinking about what they might ask me: “Do you have any questions for us?” oops i meant to think about this one before i came and now they’ve asked it and i don’t have anything to ask ummm too much dead time here i need to say something maybe it’ll jog my memory or spark new conversation “What did you say you teach in the pharmacy school?” oh that was so lame can’t you think of anything better you had a million questions a couple of weeks ago and now not one of them presents itself oh well too late now at least you can smile and nod and ask about how well the curriculum fits together “It was nice meeting you, too.” over already? that was fast.

Back to the admissions suite, The Other Admissions Guy issues us yellow legal pads and pencils and a random question to write about for thirty minutes. Three minutes I’m drawing a blank, thirty-two I’m scribbling frantically even though it reads like an enormous load of bovine excrement and I want to crumple it up and start over. But the last tittle and jot and period are in place, so now it’s time to turn it in five minutes late darn it everyone else is waiting on me i hope that’s okay i hate timed essays anyway dagnabbit that last paragraph definitely didn’t make much sense at all but it’s done now oh the tour’s over already? that was fast.

Make some chit-chat with the next candidate to arrive and then it’s time to gather my belongings and leave. Out the door of the admissions office, down the hall and to my left the grand entryway. this is all very familiar… Two years (minus three weeks) previous I stood in this very spot after the scholarship interview. It was about the same time of day, too, so the sun was glinting off the tile floor just enough to gild the room in bronze. Very slowly I descended the stairs; the same stairs, the same situation, the same sense of calm. The same prayer escaped my anxiety-chewed lips as I pushed open the outer door and entered the peaceful afternoon: God, if You want me here, You will make a way.

questions of faith January 21, 2009

The following is a note written by Stephen Nelson. I felt it necessary to repost his thoughts here because they echo many of my own. Do respond; I know I’m not the only one who’s been here.

I am greatly impacted by media. I think that I underestimate its affect on me. I just watched an excellent film that explored psychology. It was an interesting look on how people lie to themselves in order to find purpose and hope. This concept obviously raises many questions for a spiritual inquisitor.

I sincerely believe Christianity to be true, but what if it is a lie? I have read many arguments for it and many against it. I chose and choose faith, but I wonder what if the message of Christ is just something we tell ourselves? What if it is something we just need to believe to have hope? What if it is a lie to help us deal with the pain, injustice, and grief?

There are many things that keep me grounded in the most basic forms of faith, but the above questions hold me back for going deeper. Am I irrational for accepting the elementary and yet not taking my beliefs to their full extent? I’m not sure. I question that too.

Let me unpack what I am talking about. Basic faith: there are at least two routes to basic faith as I see it. These are the two that I use. First, is to start with God. The most convincing argument for the existence of God is the argument of design. There is intelligence, where did it come from? My answer: God. The second way is to start with Jesus: the accounts seem too vulnerable to be fabricated and in them you have a man like no other. He changes everything, challenging how society treated children, women, outcasts, sinners, and religious figures. He is too complex to understand and yet if you take him at his word you find yourself asking the question of C.S. Lewis: is this man a liar (intentionally misleading everyone), a lunatic (genuinely deceived about his identity, or Lord (the jewish messiah, God incarnate come to teach us and change our lives)?

This is basic to me. I accept it. I look up at the stars and cannot deny in my heart that God exists. I look at the complexity of living things and cannot push away the feeling of awe. And I study this fascinating man who lived two millennia ago and fall in love with him. The message taken from his life is everything that I desire most: a reason for why I’m messed up, a way to fix the problem, and a reason to face tomorrow.

But there comes a problem and this is where I see myself today: if you accept the “basics”, you must take the hard stuff with it. The first of which is the holy spirit. If the incarnation wasn’t hard enough to believe, now you’ve got this one. The presence of God dwelling within his people, a helper. Now I begin to have doubts. What a convenient fabrication this could be! A supernatural presence that is always with you offering you wisdom and discernment if you only trust it. That’s great except we aren’t very good listeners. We easily attribute a decision to the spirit and then we can have complete freedom from criticism? What happens when we just did what we though was best and whipped out the “God card”?

I hope there are some experts on the spirit out there that can help me. I don’t see myself in any sort of crisis. I just have a lot of questions and am afraid of being lied to. Religion has an astounding ability to manipulate. The religious leaders of Jesus time were excellent at it. I do not want to be manipulated nor do I want to manipulate others. I want truth and I’m not afraid of it. What’s the truth? Right now I am stuck somewhere between faithless and sold-out. It’s tough to let go when you’re not certain.

I want to believe it, but I’d be lying if I said I fully do. My life doesn’t suggest that I take the deepest and most important aspects of spirituality seriously. I do and I don’t. It would be impossible to be a christian without a belief in the supernatural and the spiritual, but I know there must be more.

I know I’m not alone in asking these. Everyone who walks this path passes through this section.

a productive vacation January 14, 2009

Things I have accomplished during my time at home:

• Knit a sock: I asked for sock yarn and knitting needles because I’ve been wanting to learn how to knit socks for a long time now. Within a week after Christmas, I was finished with my first one. Now I’m stuck about halfway through the second one because I’ve gotten so busy with other things. Oh well, maybe this weekend.
• Updated my pharmacy school application: Monday I finally requested my last transcript to be sent to PharmCAS. Hopefully soon I’ll get a letter telling me I have an interview.
• Apply for a research scholarship: I want to work in the Drug Discovery lab this summer, but unfortunately the Chemistry department won’t fund me because I’m not a chem or biochem major. So my professor found a program which fit my needs to a T. Despite being a painfully meticulous writer, I finished my letter in two days’ spare time and sent it in this evening.
• Visited Jo in St. Louis with Anna: And it was marvelous! Ted Drewes frozen custard, the zoo, lunch in the park, ice skating, dancing, gelato, the Arch, Union Station, and the Loop all in one weekend! We were very busy while we were there, but it was totally worth it to hang out with Jo and get away from this town for a while.
• Bowled two of the best games of my life: Yesterday in league play I bowled a turkey (three strikes in a row)… twice. Along with at least one other strike in each game and several spares. Ended up with a 168 and a 163, respectively. The Beloved said I actually beat one of his scores from last week. Hurrah!
• Began the long, slow mending of broken relationships: Have finally stopped thinking of Other Mom as “that woman”– also trying to take this perspective to everyone else I know. We’re all screwed-up people, including me, in need of God’s grace. We just happen to have different ideas of what’s right.
• Volunteered at a pharmacy: The whole time I’ve been home, I’ve been at the pharmacy 16-20 hours a week, mainly working in the compounding lab. In between doing other pharmacy technician stuff, I’ve made at least one custom compound a day. It’s been pretty enjoyable, and I’ve probably learned more than I realize.

Yeah. I don’t even think that’s everything. But this was easier than individually telling everyone about my break. If I think of something else, I may add it to the list. Until next time!

psalm nineteen January 5, 2009

(I’ve been meaning to update this thing for at least a week now. But with all of the Christmas and New Year goings-on, I was too overwhelmed to sit down and write out a coherent thought. I’m still in the middle of being busy, but here is my attempt anyway.)

Nothing like watching the dark give way to dawn out in the country. I did just that this morning with Beloved. We went down to the bottom pasture and sat for hours waiting for deer (in hunting mode). But while one waits, it’s neat to listen to that hollow wake up. There was the first bird clearing its throat with an improvised operetta and then settling down to its simple folk tune. Then came the squirrel, alternately barking to announce the presence of intruders and squeaking under its breath. I could just hear it: “Hey! HEEYY!!! There’s PEOPLE under here! (pesky kids, can’t leave an old rodent alone, always coming down here to sit under my tree…)” And, of course, there were the cows in the next pasture. One would give a yell, and a young cowlet would echo back. At nine-fifteen one of them proceeded to chime the hour… of eight o’clock. We decided that cows cannot count very far past four because they run out of hooves.

This scene has unfolded every time I’ve been there to witness it. I’m sure it occurs in a similar fashion every morning: these simple creatures awakening with such beautiful songs on their lips as no composer has been able to capture. The cattle lowing sounds long and deep through the valley, sending up thanks for the coming day of food and the comfort of community. The birds nesting high in the trees render praise for the light and warmth of the sun. Even the squirrel’s chatter reveals his gratitude in having a home to guard from strange two-legged animals.

The heavens declares the glory of God, and the sky proclaims the work of His hands. Psalm 19:1

With a landscape like this, I wouldn’t be surprised if the very rocks did cry out their Creator’s praise. It’s astounding. And I don’t have enough words to describe it, but I’m sure most if not all of you can relate to what I’ve written. If not, I’ll gladly take half an hour of your life to enlighten you. Or better yet, go experience it yourself.

Stand still, and consider the wondrous works of God. Job 37:14