I used to say the devil is in the details, but I believe that's just a big lie of the enemy now. Rather, it's our Maker who's in the details, but that just doesn't roll off the tongue as easily as the prior.
It is always about the details, though. You see, time is a commodity I have so little of, that it's painstakingly, and precariously balanced in our family. The Man was working two jobs. We have a high school student. I home school the two younger children. And oh yeah. I'm a full time college student in my Senior year.
So, this past week, I was diligently attempting to read 75+ very extensive pages for Business Law-in between soccer practice, car pool duties, groceries, horseback riding lessons, bath times, meal preparation, Prayer meetings, church, home school, and maybe even some exercise. So I toted Business Law with me every where, in the hopes I could tackle chapters 15, 16, & 17 so I could be prepared for the test Monday evening.
And then, the night before the test was due, I fell ill. So ill, that Sunday evening I lay on my bathroom floor and didn't care because I was out of my mind in pain ill. Monday morning, I can't remember if I got out of bed; my dear 9 year old daughter made coffee for me (I didn't know she could even do that?!?), & I tried to look at those dreaded chapters 15-17, which were not easy reading on a completely normal day, to say the least. My husband had graciously taken the boys to an annual eye appointment at Duke University, so they were out for the day. My daughter cared for me.
Usually, my habit for studying involves highlighting important texts, rereading the focus concept synopsis's, writing down key words with page numbers for easy reference, and just making sure I read all the material. I tried to do this all Monday, through a state of delirium. Lily made a nice sandwich for herself, and worked on her school work beside me in bed. It was a nice bonding time except for my stomach pains.
I regained some sense of awareness by Monday evening, and having finished the chapters, sat down in my study to take the timed test before the cut off. Our tests are due Monday evening typically. It is a 20 question test that is allotted a time of 60 minutes. Multiple choice and true/false questions. It is thankfully open book, but due to the rigorous amount of material, the professors always strictly admonish us to be thoroughly acquainted with the material before the test, because it's so exhaustive. There are a pool of 200 questions from the material, practically guarenteeing that no two students will have the same two tests, which greatly, if not completely, eliminates cheating.
I'm not proud to admit it, but I had made 76 on each of the previous tests, because the material is just a lot to take in. But 76 is a C, and a C passes the class, so this formerly straight A student has just accepted that that is the season I'm in. God gives grace to the humble.
I took a breath, said a quick prayer, and clicked the link to begin the test. After only 3 questions and a few minutes had passed, I quickly realized I didn't recognize any of the questions. I didn't recognize any of the key words. Panic set in, momentarily. The countdown clock in the corner, like a bad omen, said 55 min's 27 seconds remaining. My head was filled with uncertainty. Quickly, I thought despairingly to look at the course syllabus. I cleared the books, notebooks, etc from my school binder and furiously flipped to the syllabus, and saw the ghastly truth. I was supposed to read Chapters 10, 11, 12 for that weeks test. I had read the wrong chapters.
Now, for those of you who think like my husband, and wondered why I hadn't been reading in order anyway, here is the explanation: the book is not a final draft, and is a work in progress, which means the chapters are literally out of order. The professor also picks the assigned readings out of order as well, according to his preference. It makes sense for his progression of covering the material.
But back to the story. After realizing that I had read the wrong chapters, there was only one thing I could do. I prayed. I prayed earnestly, for a moment, that God would enable and equip me to pass this test. I prayed, against my own disbelief, that I would make a better grade than I had been making, like an 84. Yes. I prayed for an 84. Despite the odds.
Then, I quickly thumbed through the book and found chapters 10-12. (I want to say that they were literally *after* chapters 15-17). I looked at the key words in each question to determine what particular topic was being discussed from which chapter. And then I made the best educated guess on each question that I could. I perused each answer and hoped and prayed that I read the tidbits I could find and answer the question as best as I possibly could. When it was all said and done, weary and dog-tired, I submitted the test.
The cool thing about those kind of tests is that they are submitted and graded automatically by computer, so there is no waiting around. I shut my eyes for a moment, grimacing inwardly but not imagining the worst, and clicked on "show results".
I made an 85. Not a 76, like the other tests before. Not an 84, like I prayed. But an 85. Like God was saying,
"I see ya and hear ya dear girl. Here's what you asked for, & an extra point just to show you I love you."
"As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust." (Psalm 103:13, 14 ESV)
Let our faith be increased. Let those who are weeping, perhaps see, and begin to laugh.
