MFASPH

A very strange parallel occurrence happened to me this year.

An occurrence that was very similar to one last year.

Both involved scholarships and implicit rejection.

Last year, on the very last day of my A levels, after I had gone bowling with my class and returned home happy and exhausted (and also very wet because there had been a thunder storm and as usual I had forgotten my umbrella.) I was lying on my parents' bed watching ANTM when my dad returned home, holding a letter. The letter was from MFA, the ministry I had applied to for a scholarship, and it was a rejection letter.

I don't think I did much after reading it. I was pretty stunned and obviously disappointed. But more than that, I was angry. I was RAGING inside. I was asking (mostly rhetorically, I didn't really want to listen to anyone but myself at that point) why on earth God had raised my hopes by giving me a place in Durham and then dash my hopes by stealing away my means to get there. (this was before Cambridge, although Durham is completely still a dream school - it is beautiful)

I acted like I deserved the scholarship, than something had been taken away from me rather than not given. 

I think I threw the paper across the room at some point.

I know I cried, and curled up in the bath tub, stuck that rejection letter in my diary and wrote 'What's the use of having places when I DON'T HAVE THE MONEY TO GO THERE?'

It took a few days, good friends, and the movie interstellar to bring me to my senses and show me that God is in control but he isn't out to ruin my life, quite the opposite, he has a plan that is greater than myself. Maybe I'll be a waitress for the rest of my life, maybe I'll die tomorrow. But whatever happens, it is ultimately supposed to glorify HIM and not me.

Anyway, last week on Monday a similar thing happened.

After completing a very long application form and writing out an essay about how much I wanted to delve into people's lives and capture the essence of humanity in writing, I went onto the SPH website to submit my application - to discover that it was closed. After calling them, they told me it had been closed on the 9th of March and not the 19th of March as I believed. (I even thought I was submitting my application early!) I panicked a little, and tried emailing them anyway, with my application attached and an apology. However, they reiterated that the application was closed and that I could apply again for a mid term scholarship.

I was so disappointed - the SPH scholarship was my favourite of the lot - but there was no raging this time. 

I went swimming, swam 30 laps and cried some in the pool (although I never know if I'm actually crying in the water or just thinking that I am because of the sadness inside and the water all around me) and then got out and dried off and felt much better.

And by that evening, when Tim asked me what happened with the SPH scholarship and if I minded awfully about it, I really could confidently say, Yes I am pretty sad and I feel rather stupid for that 1 mistake, but I think that this is God sort of putting me in a funnel, and as he closes doors, he's guiding me closer to where I really need to be to truly live for Him.

I'm actually so glad about losing the scholarship because it has shown me that God truly is working in my life - that anger and confusion and hopelessness I felt after the MFA rejection is in such juxtaposition to the peace I felt after the SPH rejection. It's a weird kind of appreciation for this 'tragedy' (sort of like how I am happy to have gotten food poisoning in Burma because now I finally know what it's like!) but it has reassured me of how God is really directing and guiding every little step I take which is a huge relief honestly.