My interesting day

Today was a fairly normal day - I worked on my assignments all day (as I have three due next Tuesday). But there were a couple of abnormal things that happened; allow me to fill you in.

Last week I had to resubmit an assignment (I've never had to do that before, and was quite perturbed). Weirder still, I had to resubmit it again. I was upset and annoyed, but I prayed about it and did my best. I got my mark back today. I get my marks online, so naturally I had this tense feeling of 'I-don't-want-to-know-what-I-got-but-I-have-to-click-on-this-link-anyway' as the page was loading, and then it was there. 89. What??? I expected 50, or maybe 60 if I was lucky, since I got it badly wrong the first time. But 89? I could have jumped up and danced around the room! Instead, I thanked God heaps. And felt really good.

Second thing... Mum and I were talking in the living room, when suddenly we heard a siren turn on and off really close. Mum looked out the window, exclaimed 'Police!', and ran to the front door. I, being equally curious, ran for the front lounge room window.

Outside our house was a scene one does not see every day. A policeman had pulled over a car and was arguing with the driver and two passengers. One of these passengers got sent away from the argument as he was getting aggressive. He was a wild kind of man - actually, he looked like someone from Bible times, if it wasn't for the fact he was wearing only a pair of black shorts that kept half-falling down. He was either drunk or high.

Things were getting more and more heated, so the policeman called for backup. Backup arrived very quickly, although in the meantime the policeman had to keep the men calm by placing his hand on his gun. The new pair of policemen arrived and approached the group authoritatively. One went to deal with the wild man - opening the door of the divvy van as if to say, 'leave, or you're going in here'. The wild man left, and the other copper got his book out to take down the names of the other two.

I'm not sure why this car got pulled over, but it was all very interesting. Personally, if I was one of the coppers, I would have drug tested the lot of them, searched their car, and if that failed, I would have done a roadworthy.

By and large, I think the police do a good job and deserve a pat on the back. Not many of us would want to deal with aggressive drug-affected people all day. Go the police!

F is for Friendship

Last night I experienced a familiar but agonizing sense of failure. I was supposed to hand in three assignments; I only finished two. I don't know what it was - it wasn't like I wasn't organised. I started these assignments weeks ago. For some reason, they just took way longer than they should have. I found them harder to do than normal. Plus I've been unwell, which has made it hard.

Then I read the assignment manual, and found that late assignments receive a maximum grade of 50%, which means at the most I'll get a B for this subject (since this assignment was worth a whopping 40% of my grade). Now, you have to understand: I'm someone who cares a lot about grades. Rightly or wrongly, I feel just terrible if I hand in an assignment knowing I have not done my very best, or if I get an assignment back and I don't get an A or a B.

When the clock ticked over and it became late, I just got upset and went to bed. I couldn't sleep for ages, and I felt really miserable. I know you're probably thinking, get over it! It's just one assignment! But I was not just upset about this assignment, it was my whole performance the last 9 months. I like to get things in on time, and not have to be up late stressing about things. I like to do my very best.

This morning I got up and did not want to face the assignment. I felt like everything was crushing down on me - so much that I have to do, and I felt so tired of studying, having done it for the last 18 years or so.

So I was going to write this whole "I may be a failure but I'm no quitter" post, because I did resolve not to quit, even if I felt I'd failed in a way. But then the words of a song I sung on Sunday came to my mind, and it completely changed my day.

He took my sins and my sorrows,
And made them his very own.

It suddenly dawned on me that not only did Jesus die for the things I've done wrong, he also died for my sorrows! All the pain, sin, sadness, suffering, grief and sickness of the world was heaped upon him and nailed to the cross. It is dead. He rose from the dead triumphantly and joyfully, having left that stuff in the grave. This means that even though I may have reasons to be sorrowful in this sinful world, I can exchange my sorrow for the joy of the resurrected Christ. I'll still get sad, sure, but the cross means there is a joy and peace I can tap into that goes beyond understanding.

This just turned my day around. This post is not a sad post any more, it's a victorious post. I got the assignment done this afternoon in two hours, and I feel differently about my work now.

So why did God allow all this to happen to teach me this? Because he cares more about me as a person than about my grades. This is something I needed to be reminded of, because I tend to be a very performance-oriented person; feeling that I must perform well for people, and for God, to like me. But God isn't like that: he loves me for who I am as his child, not for what I do for him.

Thankyou God, for reminding me of this. Even if I'm not perfect, I am still perfectly loved by you.