TIME. Spring 2019 | Page 23

God out from my “conversations.” I was the only one talking, complaining, without listening to what God had to say. I had turned a job which should have been God-centered into one centered around my needs, my troubles, my wants—myself. “Hey, it’ll be alright,” the boy What I needed to do said, startling me out of my was not to hold onto thoughts. He touched me everything I wanted, but lightly on the shoulder as he to surrender everything got off the swings. “Remem- ber to stay strong and cou- I was, trusting that rageous. It’s perfectly fine to God would provide. have doubts; just don’t let those doubts sway you from the path that God has for you. Trust in Him—that’s what faith is, trusting during uncertainties.” With a warm smile, he patted me on the back again, handed me the hat, and walked out of the park, disappearing beyond the flickering streetlight. The apartment radiators buzzed as I sat on the swings, a white cap on my lap, thoughts swirling in my head. Faith. That was what I needed. I was asking God for a lot of things, but doubting my walk in Him. I jumped off the swings, put the cap in my bag, and walked towards my house. “Hey, I’m home,” I called. It was a force of habit—I lived by myself, there was no one to call to. Turning the lights on, I carefully closed the door and walked to the kitchen, eyeing a note on the table. I had a routine of writing notes to myself for the next day. I had completely forgotten what I left for myself this morning, scribbled in a rush: I ripped that page out of the notepad, folded it up, and put it inside my wallet. I took a pen out of my bag and wrote myself another verse for tomorrow: Lamentations 3:22-23 “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end.” I placed the page carefully on the table, under the boy’s white cap, and made my way to the couch. I laid awake for a while, staring at the cap on the table. And finally, with more peace than I had felt in a long time, I closed my eyes and went to sleep. — I write this at a time when not everything is going too well for me. I have yet to be a graduate from Brown, never mind become a doctor, and I still have to study for the MCAT exam and apply for medical school. I have to raise my GPA, add more extracurriculars to my list, volunteer and shadow at hospitals, socialize with friends, try to make meaningful relationships with others: the list never ends. But despite all this, I have a strange calm in my heart, a feeling that causes me to cry tears of both sorrow and joy— for I know that my God hears my cries and wipes those very tears off my cheeks, telling me that all is well (Psalms 40:1), that He would leave the ninety-nine to go searching for my lost and wandering self. David Shin is a junior concentrating in Neuroscience. 2 Corinthians 5:7 “For we walk by faith and not by sight.” I stared at the notepad, only now feeling the weight of what it meant. Faith during uncertainties. That’s what the boy had told me. What I needed to do was not to hold onto everything I wanted, but to surrender everything I was, trusting that God would provide. 23