It's Not Supposed to be Easy

I failed the exam. It was my first academic quarter in graduate school at the University of Florida, and I was sitting in Dr. King’s graduate organic spectroscopy course looking at my graded test paper. It wasn’t a C or a D, but a good, solid F. Very sad face. Deep breath. Call Carla back at BJU and pour out my heart. Deep breath. OK, let’s work harder. And so I did. I returned to class after the next test was graded, hoping for a good grade, and I had improved. To a D.

What was going on? First, I had done pretty well at BJU and I was simply studying as I had done before. It wasn’t working, and I needed to change my ways. This isn’t surprising—I’ve seen this many times in my students over the years. Apparently my approach was inadequate. Second, I was treating my studies mechanically, with an attitude of “I know how to do this, and so I’ll just execute my strategy.” In of itself, there’s nothing wrong with doing things that we think will work. The problem was that I had factored the Lord out of the picture. One of the Psalms says,

“Unless the LORD builds the house, They labor in vain who build it;

Unless the LORD guards the city, The watchman keeps awake in vain.”

Psalm 127:1 (NASB)

The author was Solomon, and he surely knew what he was talking about. No, you can’t even build a house without God’s blessing upon the process. A simple flood or fire takes care of it, regardless of how much those hard-working construction workers try. No, you can’t even pass your graduate organic spectroscopy course without God’s blessing upon the process. God was tapping me on the shoulder and saying, “Remember Me, Brian?” I sought Him in prayer. I prayed as if it were all up to Him and worked as if it were all up to me.

Third, although I had no knowledge at that time that the Lord would direct me to teach at BJU, He was preparing me to have input into the chemistry curriculum at BJU. My undergraduate chemistry training had some deficiencies in it, and God intended me to help address them. Some dealt with organic spectroscopy, and we have remedied those.

I think it was after my D that I approached Dr. King after class one day and reminded him that I wasn’t doing well. I also pointed out that I had become aware that my fellow graduate students had access to files of his old tests, and that they were relying on them when preparing. I had a conscience problem with this, and so I asked him point blank, “Is it OK for me to use those files when studying for tests?” Dr. King was a colorful old professor. Short, balding, with long, flowing white hair on the sides of his head and a long, white beard. He walked with a pronounced limp, and he spoke with a stereotypical English accent. Apparently, nobody had ever asked him a question like this. “Ahem, aaaah, of course, I know such things happen, but, aah, AHEM, that doesn’t necessarily mean that I APPROVE of them.” And there it was. I just couldn’t do it because my conscience wouldn’t allow me to. I didn’t use those files. I think I got a D+ on the next test. Things were going well.

Dr. King decided to use a final exam consisting of all new questions. He was probably thinking something like, “I’m going to find out what they REALLY know.” I got the highest grade in the class. My determination to do what was right, my reliance on the Lord, my hard work, and let us not forget a major and essential part of this—God’s blessing on my efforts—led to a really good grade. Dr. King gave me a B+ in that course, and I’ve never been so happy for a B+ in my life. I think he was generous, and, given my earlier performance, there was no way to justify my getting an A. And then the Lord used another course the next quarter to work on me some more. He’s still working on me, and it’s not easy.

We have a natural tendency to think that things should go smoothly. We think that if we’re thankful, and we rejoice, and we spend enough time in prayer and reading God’s word, and we let the peace of God rule in our hearts, and we praise Him enough, then life will be idyllic. It doesn’t work like that.

“…That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death; in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.”

Philippians 3:10-11 (NASB)

We love the idea of experiencing the power of His resurrection and, in keeping with His promises, being raised from death to life eternal. What we are told of that life suggests that it will be idyllic. The problem is the part stuck in the middle: getting a taste of His suffering, giving up our will daily, and accepting affliction when He knows that it will accomplish His purpose. Lots of people suffer in one way or another, but only His children gain eternal benefit from it.

The Lord Jesus Christ, the creator of the universe, is fully God, but He became fully human. In His humanity, He set aside the full expression of His divinity. As a young person, he learned. He submitted to His parents. He grew, He matured, and He had a public ministry. He had anguish in His soul, grieved, and wept. He was a man of sorrows. They reviled Him, they spit upon Him. They crucified Him. It doesn’t sound idyllic to me. And we’re supposed to follow His example.

I’m currently reading a book on the humanity of Christ, and I’m going to quote a short passage from it:

“The life of faith, of growing faith and strengthened character, is one that involves a fight for faith and enduring through difficulties. This life of faith is never lived on auto-pilot; it is never a life of passivity and ease; it isn’t something done to us without our full and active participation. These glimpses we’ve seen of Jesus—who offered prayers and supplications through loud crying and tears, who prayed three times in the Garden of Gethsemane for the cup to be removed—give evidence to the active, war-like nature of the life of faith. If anyone might be thought to have lived on auto-pilot, it would be Jesus. After all, along with his true and full humanity, he was fully God; and although he had the nature of a man, his human nature was totally sinless. You would think such a person (unlike any of us!) could coast. To have a divine nature and a sinless human nature would seem to make obedience easy. Well, look again at Jesus. What you see is a man who labored to obey, who agonized in the testings the Father designed for him, who fought through the trials of life to maintain his integrity and obedience before his Father.”

Why should it be any different for those that follow Him?

I Don’t Know If I Can Do This

Months of extreme fatigue, cloudy-mindedness, and feeling lousy take a toll on a person. Feeling sick when you wake up even after a good night’s sleep is miserable. Teaching a new course is always demanding because of the unending need to constantly create. You might be surprised how much work it takes to write quiz questions on reading assignments, especially if you try to avoid writing trivial questions. Creating thought-provoking classroom presentations that incorporate engaging questions, discussion, and graphics that give insight into cause and effect take a lot of time. Test questions that require critical thinking and reasoning to get to the correct answers don’t magically appear out of thin air. Assignments need to be graded. Some are easy, some are tedious. Oh yeah, and then there are other courses to teach and numerous things pertaining to coordinating and championing academic programs. Being the head of the Department of Chemistry and Physics as well as having other responsibilities requires a lot of time, too. Lest we forget, God called me to BJU to help these people called students. They drop in needing to talk about many different kinds of things, some academic and some non-academic. I love these people. Did I mention that I have a family and responsibilities at church? And things in the house and vehicles that need to be attended to? The pressure is unrelenting. These are all valuable and important things, but oh my, it’s so hard to keep up when you have little energy and can’t focus well. You go home, collapse on the sofa or easy chair, and just feel lousy. And you don’t keep up.

In the midst of this perfect storm of events, I’ve thought about retirement a surprising number of times. I’m only 62, and my goal has been to teach until I’m 70. This semester, though, I’ve often asked myself, “How much longer can I keep doing this?” People say that you’ll know when it’s time to retire. Is it now? No, but when feeling really crummy, the only reason to say no is that I don’t think I can yet afford to do so. When talking with the Lord I’ve said, “I can’t do this unless you help me.” Of course, this has been true for the last 35 years, but this semester it has been much more obvious to me. “Lord, are you sure this is what you want me to do?” “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Then there’s the cancer. The statistics about follicular lymphoma show that people can live a few years or a few decades after being diagnosed with it. I’m pretty sure I had it for some time before I was diagnosed with it about four and one-half years ago, during the summer of 2014. Is it the cancer causing these symptoms? Am I at a point where I’ll have to consider treatment? Should I call my oncologist’s office, or should I wait awhile longer?

In a weird way, struggling with the extreme fatigue and other stuff became a new normal for me. This is not unique to me—people are remarkably resilient and can adapt. It’s like the proverbial story of the frog. If you put the frog in hot water it jumps out, but if you put it in lukewarm water and slowly raise the temperature, then it slowly cooks without jumping out. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but it does illustrate the idea of becoming accustomed to bad circumstances.

Three weeks ago, I decided it was time to make that call. I described my symptoms to the nurse, she talked with my oncologist, and she called me back. The oncologist had said that I should get worked up by my regular doctor. Surprisingly, he was available late that afternoon and I went in. He spent some time discussing things with me and then ordered a bunch of tests: CBC with differential, creatine kinase, comprehensive metabolic panel, ferritin, iron +TIBC, vitamin B12, TSH reflex with FRT4, vitamin D, sedimentation rate, and lactate dehydrogenase. I came back the next day and I think I gave five or six vials of blood.

Due to the rapidity with which such tests can now be performed and the convenience of electronic access, I got the results with an app on my phone late the next day. Everything was normal except for two things. First, my ferritin level was just a little high, and that was nothing to be concerned about. Second, my vitamin D level was low. On the way to campus the next morning I stopped in at my local Walmart Neighborhood Market and bought some vitamin D₃ caplets (they were cheaper than Amazon with Prime, and much faster to get, to boot). I took some immediately when I got to campus.

I was surprised that I started feeling somewhat better later in the day. I continued taking it at a lower dose both morning and evening and—this shocked me—the extreme fatigue disappeared. A few days later I could feel the fatigue coming back. I immediately bumped the dose back up, and the fatigue disappeared again. My mind cleared, and I wasn’t feeling lousy. Oh, what a joy to wake up in the morning feeling good before getting out of bed! It’s been not quite three weeks yet, but I’m still feeling good. It’s almost too good to be true, but those symptoms are gone. I’m no longer thinking about retirement.

I only partly understand the interplay between God’s sovereignty, my responsibility, God’s providential care, and the exercise of my will. Entire books have been written on this subject. The one that I’ve read discussed the subject deeply, and one part centered on this verse:

“In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will….”

Ephesians 1:11 (ESV)

Pay careful attention here: “…According to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will….” People that know Greek have studied this, and the word all means all. I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that even the distasteful things in life are worked out within the scope of His will. But they are.