VirtuaLife

Never pray for something you don’t really intend to receive.

Just under three weeks ago, now, my lifegroup was immersed in a phase of prayer. I had asked my leader to pray for a ‘greater challenge’ in my clinical studies as I was feeling under-utilised and too comfortable with my current placement workload. Hence, my daily activities became increasingly mundane while I got more restless and distractible. As reinforcement to my true intent, I wrote down this prayer on a slip of paper and contributed it to the lifegroup’s prayer bowl. Those who know me well would recognise the significance of this action, as symbolism plays a pretty miniscule part of my life.

The week after submitting this request to God, I began to proactively push my clinical educator to ramp up the pressure on me. Note that I was asking to be marked and assessed harder than the other students. Unknown to me, I had already subconsciously decided that the challenge would come in the form of academic or clinical excellence, an area that I have struggled to maintain any form of consistency over the last 4 years. In some ways, this focus invoked the ‘crowns’ of my past, a past which God freely gave, and also saw fit to take away. In retrospect, then, it was an erroneous desire to harbor.

The second week after – that was one week ago – a combination of circumstances led to some flawed critical decision-making on my behalf, in which I directly undermined the clinical educator’s authority. Basically, as I felt I was being ineffective during clinical time, and with an afternoon free of commitments, I decided to leave the hospital early in order to go home and complete a research project. I did so by informing all higher authorities... except my clinical educator. The resulting hullaballoo this caused was intense.

It was in the resulting fallout I discovered the challenge God had set for me was not one of academic or clinical scope, but rather professionalism. That I could even have thought to pre-empt God’s actions over my life now is laughable, and the shock of being subject to a disciplinary report (with strong implications for graduation) was enough of a system shock that it lasted slightly more than 24 hours... that’s even longer than the chaoticism++ when I was unwittingly ‘dumped’ by J! Moreover that God could challenge me in an area I upheld as a bastion of my integrity... really brought me to my knees. And brought my face from *smug* =] to *stunned* =O. Such are the joys of serving my sovereign and mysterious God!

What were the challenges? To a lessor extent, I was found to be in breach of the Institutions’ (Hospital and Australian Physiotherapy Association (APA)) Code of Conduct. Fair enough, I can take that one on the chin as I can say I’ve never read the APA Professionalism chapter from start to finish! The other challenge my clinical educator posed to me, however, was that I was proud. More specifically ‘cocky and arrogant; definitely you got some pride, mate’.

*muscles tense up – tedde’s starting to spoil for a fight*

Cocky, I understand. In fact, I need to appear confident and in control when treating patients; it’s one of the desirable qualities of a new graduate. Perhaps he was annoyed that I was dismissive of the other student’s suggestions for assessment and treatment at times, but would he rather me be like a stray leaf, at the mercy of whichever direction the wind blows in? In the context of clinical practice, I don’t have a lazy 30 minutes to explain my rationale for REJECTING somebody’s ideas because I have a patient in the cubicle who’s itching to get out again. But I digress. There are ways to be confident and in control without coming across as cocky.

But pride. Pride. PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIDDDDDE. Bollocks@! Asdfghjkl!

Feel my pain. I’m sure that pride is a personal war to all of us, so for me to claim the war on pride as my own would be pure foolishness, Yet I do wonder if anybody has ever fought it as intensely, day-by-day, hour-by-hour, pouring so much thought into it at times that I can be completely spent just from the mental struggle. Pride has been my Goliath since I was 13 years old (fitting age, really???), such that I am now intimately acquainted with its many manifestations and disguises. For me, to be accused FIRST AND FOREMOST of pride is akin... to be accused of being meaningless, being redundant! Gosh, when God picks a fight, He sure knows where to land the punches!

So, the issue was flagged and my mind (or my single neuron, as known to a select audience) went from 1% boredom idling to 150% overtime with stress factors ++. I went home after clinic that day and the first thing I did was pull out the Bible, mummy Lim’s ancient Concordance (so heavy you could benchpress it!) and several other reference works. I wanted to administer the true litmus test; the Bible’s understanding of pride. Over the next 1-2 hours I scrutinised verses, cross-referenced passages, reflected on aspects of my life – many aspects! – prayed and digested. The end result? I was found GUILTY.

Guilty because in my habit of picking apart and dissecting everything and everyone, I was engaged in a dangerous dance. Despite acknowledging the integrity differential between myself and Christ, I was fighting over the very crumbs between others and myself that He had told me not to! Actually, it wasn’t even a fight. As far as I was concerned I’d already had the crumbs and was trying to discover the recipe for dough =]. And guilty because I deplore the false humility of many Christians who play down their services but ‘not-so-secretly’ desire praise and flattery from their peers – I firmly advocate acknowledging one’s worth, not any more or less than is due. Well, I still do. But I recognise my own integrity was founded on a perception of flawed Christians’ actions, and not the true humility espoused by the Bible.

At the end of the day, after the system shock has subsided, the male hormones have been reset and I have once again found an inner wobble board to frolic on (ever wondered why I can be so quirky?). God knew it would take nothing short of a thunderclap to shake me out of my cruisy reverie, and He went straight for my spiritual trigger points. I have reason to be thankful in that this... cancer... did not descend as deeply as feared, but remain humbled that God will still challenge me on this issue.

And full of praise that my King faithfully and consistently answers prayers! I should pray for this MORE! XD

We make the choice, God makes the change. Father, break me again AND again, but only so that you can make me purer and more fitting for Your service.

In Faith, Hope and Love!
teDDe~