The Promise
It’s been ten years.
I have been in medical school for ten full academic years. Traditionally, medical school is supposed to take four years to complete.
In life, things don’t always go as planned.
Years ago, after multiple attempts at successfully growing closer to the passing mark, I never saw myself failing my licensing exam by just one point. I wondered why something so heartbreaking had happened to me, and why after so much progress with steadily increasing scores things still didn’t turn out the way I had hoped, even on my next attempt at the test.
Later, after exiting my first medical school program, I spent some time ruminating on what could have been while pushing forward towards what could still be. In the time I could have spent solely recollecting my setbacks, I made the choice instead to lean into faith that God could restore what I had lost with a potential fresh start someplace else.
I was holding onto a promise, a core belief that failure was not the end of my story and hope that I could still be a doctor someday.
All along, through each passing year on this journey, God has been strengthening my faith in Him, regardless of my circumstances. My faith has been tested in many ways, yet truth remains that God is good no matter what I face. In His abounding grace, He has blessed my life in many unexpected and extraordinary ways. It’s why I feel called to share my story and to tell others of His goodness. I am beyond grateful for the Lord’s presence and faithfulness along my journey.
I wholeheartedly believe my testimony was never meant for just me. I personally believe everyone has a story worth telling. No matter what season you’re in, God is right there with you. I’ve learned that this should be the focus, not on our circumstances alone. With this perspective, there is always good worth embracing and hope to lean into.
He “comforts and encourages us in every trouble so that we will be able to comfort and encourage those who are in any kind of trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”
2 Corinthians 1:4 AMP
What has Jesus done in your life that you feel called to share with others?
Earlier, after my second attempt at the test, I had sat in my Chaplain’s office feeling confused at why, despite my resolute faith that I would pass the test on the next try and my miraculous score increase, I still found myself several points shy of the passing mark. I was confident and had matched my faith with works. I felt like I even had displayed boldness of faith in freely proclaiming to others that overcoming this hurdle would surely come to pass (no pun intended). I had done all I could do. I didn’t know why I failed. I couldn’t help but to wonder to myself, why wasn’t my faith rewarded?
I realize now more than ever that God sees us in our moments of distress and readily comes to our aid with wisdom and clarity. Just as things don’t always go as planned, God doesn’t always operate on our timeline. But that’s okay. His thoughts are higher than our thoughts and His ways above our ways (Isaiah 55:9 NIV). The plans He has are for our good and His glory (Romans 8:28 NIV).
Faith includes trusting God despite what we can see in front of us at any given time. That’s what I leaned into on that challenging day of my second score-release, trusting that my perseverance and faith would be rewarded in due season, regardless of what I could see in front of me.
The same God who had gone before me many times in that Chaplain’s office during small group Bible study sessions, filling me with wisdom and fresh insight, and in one-on-one chats with the Chaplain, covering me with encouragement, also comforted me with His unfailing love and faithfulness when I needed Him most. He heard my cry the day I received my second failing score and graciously offered me a few gentle, healing, and transformative words that would inevitably reshape the next several years of my life and restore my hope.
He said to me,
“Failure is not the end. It is all for a greater testimony.”
I do not think I have ever heard the Voice of God more clearly than I did in that moment. There was a stillness. An authority within His words I could not deny. It brought me peace, comfort, and hope all at once. It was almost as though His Words tapped me on the shoulder and cradled me in His loving hands, strengthening me with His powerful presence. When it felt like I was breaking, and could no longer stand on my own, God was there shifting the atmosphere with each passing word and molding me into something unshakable in the process. He was calling me to trust Him.
And when Jesus calls, you answer.
When He speaks, you listen.
And when he declares something, you believe Him.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”
Psalm 34:18 NLT
These comforting words contained within them a promise, given to me by a promise-keeping God, that I would hold onto for the next ten years of my life.
All these years later, and I’ve never forgotten those sacred words, or The Promise.
The Perspective Shift
Before The Promise there were sprinkles of perspective weaved throughout my medical school story, offering a starting point for transformation. I didn’t know it yet, but these would become core memories, glimmers of light shining through life’s darkest valleys reminding me that I was not walking alone.
It’s amazing how God can use anyone at any given time and make anything purposeful. He’s extraordinary at making something from nothing, and excellent at making even the simplest of moments meaningful.
I remember a day back in my first medical school program when I must have been over it completely. We were on one of our ten-minute post-lecture breaks and I had darted into our student break room. One of my study group members was hanging out by the door and had overheard a dramatic statement that I’d made aloud concerning my authentic thoughts about medical school at the time.
For specific reasons now lost in time, that day my thoughts concerning my circumstances had come to a head. I had spent nearly the past hour suffering through a lecture I didn’t understand, juggling who knows what personal trauma at the forefront of my mind, distracting me from what I knew I had the capacity to understand if only life weren’t so heavy at the time.
In the break room after the lecture, consciously, I knew no one standing around could instantaneously make things better for me, but subconsciously it seemed like my heart was crying out for someone—anyone who would listen. So, I did what anyone boiling over with emotions does and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
In utter agony I said aloud to myself,
“I can’t believe I’ve sentenced myself to four years of this. It feels like prison.”
To be fair, life was overwhelming in that season. School was hard, finances were tight, and I had transitioned to a new city apart from family to pursue my dream of becoming a doctor. In addition to this, I did not recognize that I was in a critical season of adulthood where one exercises prudence and begins to develop necessary boundaries between personal and professional life. This unintentional negligence significantly impacted my social structure and support.
It was year one, and I was crumbling.
But even then, I was not alone.
This was two years before my licensing exam journey would begin and I didn’t yet know the half of what I’d face later on in my faith walk and path toward becoming a physician. If only I had known then that I’d be a graduate student for the next ten years of my life, then I might have been more cautious about making such a claim about medical school being a four-year “prison”.
The tears I’d once cried in gratitude for my original medical school acceptance were buried beneath the frustration of, well, everything that came with exactly what I’d prayed for.
Has this ever happened to you, where you got exactly what you asked for and then complained about it once it arrived? I think many of us might relate to this this human tendency to lose our gratitude during trying times. But I’ll speak for myself. Perhaps you are far less dramatic and much more valid in your complaints concerning your unique set of life circumstances.
As for me, I was living in a miracle and yet I was unaware of the seeds that God was intentionally planting and gently watering in that season.
“Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy.”
Psalms 126:5 NLT
Things would get better, significantly. And it would take a heart posture of gratitude to steward well the wealth of grace I’ve been given to walk this path to begin with and to appreciate the circumstances meant to develop my character. It would be worth it if I held on just a little while longer.
And you too, hold on a little while longer—to your circumstances and to this post. I know its long. But just like life, its worth the journey. 🙂
One of my then classmates, who admittedly did not always have kind words to offer concerning my circumstances, had been in earshot of my comment. I didn’t expect him to understand my personal challenges, but I also didn’t anticipate what he’d say next in response to what he’d overheard.
He said,
“You know, you shouldn’t say that. There are many people who would love to be where you are right now. Many people would love to be in your position.”
He said it so matter of fact that I felt conflicted. Deep down I had wanted to be seen, rescued even. And in a strange way I was grateful to have a warm body within earshot of my soulful outcry during such a lonely and isolated season of my life.
It gets better guys, don’t worry.
At the time, it felt like my issues were being minimized, but I couldn’t ignore the truth in his statement. He had a point. For years as a pre-medical student pushing through Chemistry and all the “-ology” classes, I had dreamt of that moment where I could finally call myself a medical student. There were many then, and many now, who would gladly love to have a spot in my medical school class.
Not to dismiss the valid feelings that led to my somber statement all those years ago, but my mindset had more power than I realized. When I couldn’t change my circumstances, I had a choice in how to endure them. I misspoke. Four years of medical school wasn’t a “sentence”, rather it was a gift. While it is true that my first year of medical school was exceptionally challenging, it was also true that my reality at the time was an immense privilege. It was also the premise for what would inevitably become one incredible testimony.
The Choice Is Yours
Present day, I recognize that there is power in our perspective. We each have a choice in how we view what life throws at us. We can either see the glass half empty or half full. And, from where I’m standing, mine is overflowing in this season. Yes, it has been ten years since I first began medical school, but I am almost to the finish line.
I have hope, and a promise to hold onto. Failure certainly wasn’t the end for my story. And I believe by faith that It Will End in Victory.
Is there a challenge in your life, past or present, that you may need to reframe? Trust me, a few moments of reflection could change your entire mindset. And a changed mindset has potential to reshape your entire life.
For example, a simple act of obedience to the Lord in changing the title of this testimonial series from “My First Year of Medical School Was Hell” to “It Will End in Victory” shifted my exam history from an eight-year track record of exam failures to finally passing my licensing exam on the seventh attempt in my new medical school program (more on this amazing milestone later).
“Words kill, words give life; they’re either poison or fruit—you choose.”
Proverbs 18:21 MSG
They say seven is the number of completion.
When I received The Promise after my second attempt, like Elijah in the above scripture reference, I couldn’t yet see it, but I had heard the sound of heavy rain.
Seven years later, the day I finally passed the exam on the seventh attempt, I went outside to worship. I paused, looked up to the sky and felt a tiny raindrop on my lip. Just like the rain cloud Elijah’s servant had seen when he went back a seventh time, this passing score was the fulfillment of a Word from God and a foreshadowing of what was yet to come.
That tiny raindrop on my lip was a significant sign that it was the Voice of God that I had heard that day telling me that “failure was not the end” and that “it would all be for a greater testimony”.
This story has always meant to be told. It was never just for me. And “It Will End in Victory”.
In my story, you can either focus on failures or the miracle; the setbacks or the transformation; the non-linear journey or the second chance. The wind and the waves, or Jesus (Matthew 14: 29-30).
I used to only see the flames but now my focus is fixed on the fourth man in the fire.
“Look!” he answered, “I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire; and they are not hurt, and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God.”
Daniel 3:25 NKJV
While I don’t attribute my ten-year journey through medical school to a one-off comment said in desperation all those years ago in the break room, I do recognize the value in taming the tongue. We must be mindful of what we say, and guard our hearts above all else, for it determines the course of our life (Proverbs 4:23 NLT).
The End of a Matter Is Better Than It’s Beginning
I often recall what it felt like to receive an exciting phone call from a gracious admissions representative asking me if I was open to filling a spot that someone else was unable to take, just two weeks before classes would begin for the new school year in my current program. One moment of divine grace shifted my entire career trajectory and would ultimately change my life. On that day, sobbing happy tears and blasting worship music in the car, I promised myself that I would one day tell my story.
So much has happened since my first year of medical school in my old program. My faith has been tested in unimaginable ways, and yet I remain standing.
“Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.”
Ephesians 6:13 NIV
I am grateful beyond what words can express for my seat in my current class, and for the miracle of getting accepted into medical school a second time.
It’s true, life doesn’t always go as planned. But I’m grateful for it. While I didn’t anticipate my traditional journey into medical school becoming a decade-long escapade through triumph over failure, I am grateful for the positive, gracious, and unexpected surprises that have come my way along this path.
I have spent much of my young adult life seeing the world and chasing my wildest dreams. I will never forget the many miracles I am living in. I am confident that He who began a good work in me will carry it on to completion (Philippians 1:6 NIV).
I am overjoyed that I have made it to my senior year of medical school and can finally visualize the light at the end of the tunnel I was desperately yearning for back then. Only, it’s much brighter than I imagined it. It’s vibrant and beautiful. Glorious. Yahweh (Jesus) has truly outdone Himself in this season, exceedingly, abundantly more than I could have ever asked, thought, or imagined (Ephesians 3: 20).
If you’ve read this far, I’d love to share some amazing news with you. Thanks for sticking with me.
Victory
Recently, I attended a Christian Writers conference where I was able to meet and fellowship with authors, editors, publishers, and literary agents. To call myself a writer, seven years after starting my blog, and be in the midst of people who share a love for this form of artistry is a dream come true.
And go figure, just like Elijah atop mount Carmel, the forecast the entire week of the conference was rain—heavy rain, at the top of the mountains the Christian Writers conference was hosted on.
Praise Yahweh!!!!!!!
At the conference, I won a 1st-Place Foundations Award in the Blogs category. Ahh! So exciting.
Also, I got signed with a literary agent. I’m going to be a PUBLISHED AUTHOR, y’all! God is SO faithful.
Building on the Elijah Bible story and seven being the number of completion, did I mention that I’ve been blogging for seven years? God is amazing.
I cannot wait to share this story in a non-fiction memoir someday soon. This is a dream realized.
God truly is magnificent. His personality and sovereignty are ever present in all things, and His perfection is clearly seen from what has been made. I cannot thank Him enough for what He has done in my life and for who He is. Jesus is truly excellent and worthy of eternal praise.
There’s a scripture in the Bible that says,
“But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.” Matthew 19:30 NIV
I might be among the last in my medical school class to graduate, but I certainly am not the least.
If medical school has been a ten-year journey and this is the season finale, then I’ll call this season: Victory.
Whether you’re new to this series or have been following from the beginning, I cannot wait to share my testimony in full and greater detail in my book. (Ahh so, excited!)
Stay tuned and thank you for supporting me this far. ♡
“Failure is not the end. It was all for a greater testimony. It has ended in Victory.”
-God.
