Before anything else,
I have to say "Happy Valentine's Day!" Yes. It is the
dreaded Singles Awareness Day. While today was not as easy to endure as
other Valentine's have been...it was still ok. It's getting harder and harder
to be patient. I was still very aware (and so blessedly reminded) of being
single...but really, how is that different from any other day of the year?
That's another story...not one I am interested in getting into right now. And
so I move on to the blow I received today...
Today, my character
was attacked. The very essence of who I am was falsely muddied and I received a
punch in the face from someone who is supposed to encourage and inspire me. I
went to talk with a professor about a project that I am working on, a business
plan competition that I am preparing for. A project, by the way, that is above
and beyond my normal studies. Instead of help and concern, I received a harsh
word from my professor who proceeded to ream me for 10 minutes. I heard all
about how I was a bad student. I heard all about how he doesn't understand why
students wait until the last minute to do things. I heard all about how my
priorities are not in the right place. I heard all about how I should be
embarassed because I have not prepared enough up until this point to represent
my university next week. I heard all about how he has no sympahty for students
who have ample time to prepare...
I heard about a lot
of stuff. The worse thing is that all I could do was stand there and cry. I hate crying in front of
professors- because I hate the stereotypical "cry to get what you
want." But as hard as I tried (and believe me...I tried. I tried to the
point where I was doing those short gasps for breath, you know the kind you get
when you really can't get control of your crying? Yeah, those), I just couldn't
stop the tears from flowing. I wasn't allowed to defend myself. I wasn't
allowed to explain. The tears were pent up from a million other things going on
in my life right now. But all those other things in my life were mere excuses
to my professor. He wasn't interested in the fact that I have been sick on my
deathbed for the past week. He wasn't interested in the fact that our group is
doing extra work for this competition. He wasn't interested in the fact that
only half of our group is doing the work of 6. He wasn't interested in the fact
that his class is not the only one I am taking. He wasn't interested in the
fact that I have 50 million other things due before this competition. He wasn't
interested in the fact that I feel as though everything is falling apart and it
is taking everything in me just to make it through another day. Nope. Didn't
care. "It's about priorities..."
I was frustrated
because he wouldn't let me explain myself. I was frustrated because he wouldn't
extend an ounce of grace. I was frustrated because I couldn't
defend myself. I was angry because I shouldn't have had to defend myself (I
didn't even do anything wrong- p.s.). I was angry because he was lecturing me
on the frustrations he had with other slacker students. I was angry because I
wanted to tell him off, but knew that wasn't very Christ-like. I was angry
because who is he to tell me what my priorities should be? I was upset because
I couldn't muster enough love for him when I know he obviously needed it the
most. I was hurt because everything he was saying about me was so far from the truth. I
have a million people I could line up to prove him wrong. But that's not the
point. The point is that I received a punch in the face today from someone that
I shouldn't have. The point is that I can't do anything about this and have to
let it go.
So why do I have this
overwhelming need to defend myself to other people? Why do I always find it
necessary to explain myself to people? Because right now...it is killing me that my
professor has this false view of me. I can't stand it! It's driving me crazy. I
want him to know the real me. I want him to know that he has the wrong
impression of me. I want him to know that all of his assumptions of me are not
even based on...anything.
But what does that prove? If I could get him to listen to me...if I could get
him to see my side...if I could get him to understand where I am coming from
and actually see that he was wrong...what does that prove? That I am right and
he is not? Big deal. So why all the stress over what this one professor thinks
of me? It is partly because my grade for the semester lies in his hands and I
want so badly to graduate with a 4.0. It is partly because I like having the
image of the "good student." It is partly because I don't want
to fill some stereotype that he builds for students in general. It is partly
pride...yes, I admit it. It is partly because the last thing I need is for
someone to be telling me what I am not
doing right.
Has your character
ever been falsely attacked? Have you ever been made to feel 2 inches tall? Has
it ever happened when you have done everything right and then some? I kill
myself to do my best. I strive to do 110% in everything I do. I work my butt
off to exceed expectations. So when I get punched in the face like this while I
am doing my absolute best...well, it hurts. And then I am reminded...I should
be working as for the Lord, not for man. It's only God's opinion of me that
matters. God is my defender.
Please pray for
me. Pray that I can forgive my professor. Pray that I can love my
professor. Pray that I can let this go and truly let God handle it for me.
