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
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