This term was incredibly tense for me. I was placed on academic probation, and if I didn't bring my grades up, I would be dropped from the program. I admit I am not much of a study person. I don't like doing homework, and the only way it gets done is if I purposely choose a class that would interest me through out its duration. With that in mind, classes just fell into place.
The term was followed by much prayer, much stress, and much contemplation about the profession I had chosen, or I should say, God chose for me. When I entered the program, my heart wasn't into it. Sure the classes were interesting, tough, but I wasn't committed. Nothing like blood, sweat and tears to make one feel connected to the situation s/he has gone through. I was uncertain if I would make this term. In the beginning, that uncertainty caused me to bring the whole matter to God, reexamine all the doors that opened for me to be in the program, and all the little and large miracles that happened along the way.
Even as I wrote papers, finished assignments and completed projects, I kept asking God for a miracle. One class I struggled through, you know the one. I previously wrote about one paper I was writing for that class. Anyways, each paper I did, I did poorly, or at least I felt I did poorly. Three papers, 15% a piece, and I was getting mediocre grades. I'd pray over those papers, prayed during those papers, prayed when I could. There were other areas of the class I was doing well in. The discussion section I was getting 100% on each discussion. In total, 7 discussions. The final project, the group and I received 94%, best in the class (we were told so). It was heartening to hear. I figured I'd get a B+ in the class. The other class I was sure would get an A.
I like it when God proves me wrong.
I got an A in the difficult class, and ironically, an -A in the other class. One more grade to go. I get the feeling I'll get a B+.