In the Land of Jason

        The night before boards, I stayed in a Holiday Inn. I made sure that I had a room far from the front desk and not near any exits. I checked for bedbugs before I brought my bags into the room. My review books, fiction, and a comfortable set of clothes were laid out for the next morning. I’d already set the rooms two alarms for about 0530-almost 3 hours before my test time- when I called the front desk for a 0630 wakeup call since I wanted to be out the door for breakfast at about that time. After I’d settled in, I went to the Kroger’s across the street to purchase a healthy dinner that wouldn’t cause any gas, indigestion, bloating, or potentially diarrhea. I also purchased Gas-X, antacids, and Motrin just in case. Then I drove to the testing site so that I could find it easily in the morning. Since I’d made sure that the hotel was close by, it took less than 10 minutes to find it. When I got back, I worked out on the stationary bike for almost 40 minutes since I wanted to sleep well. Upon returning to my room I took a luxurious hot shower (my apartment has a safety mechanism that keeps the water from getting more than tepid). I sat down in front of the TV opened my dinner of salad with chicken (sans cheese and droplets of salad dressing) and the biggest grapes I’d seen in a long time. I reviewed some study materials and then decided to turn in.

       I slept fitfully waking every 40-50 minutes and then falling back to sleep. At about 0030, I decided to go out to my car and take a couple of Benadryl to help me sleep (I usually take some kind of antihistamine at bedtime since I have an allergy to dust mites). A cold rain had begun to fall but I was in a hurry to fall asleep so I just rolled up my pant legs and went out in my bare feet. The cold rain felt good against my achy feet but it also woke me further. I spent 30 minutes playing Angry Birds on my iPod before I drifted off.

         An hour later I awoke and realized that in all of my planning I had not spent any time with God. All of this prep and I had forgotten the central thing. Whether I passed or not was a miniscule concern. Deeply humbled and mortified I spent some time with Him. After all the effort I’d put in to get everything just right, I’d failed to recognize how much more God had done. I remember thinking about a superstitious acquaintance that believed that if everything wasn’t “just perfect” that if the proper ritual or devotion was not in place, God would instantly take retribution. Should I not have pass this friend would (I imagined) likely point to this as the cause. Meh. If I didn’t pass in the morning, so be it. I may have failed in the previous day’s duty but I know Who I serve (even if often very, very poorly). I spent a very short amount of time in worship and then fell fitfully asleep.

        The next morning I woke late about 0600 and hustled to get to breakfast. I went to the hotel buffet choosing oatmeal, fruit, scrambled eggs, water, a single cup of coffee, and water (complex carbs, protein, caffeine, and water to insure proper hydration). I sat and reviewed the topic of anemia, perceiving no pressure or stress just excitement. (And irritation that the bar’s TVs were blaring crap about the upcoming election). I checked in with God. I took my morning meds after eating, paid my bill, and arrived at the testing center at 0750. I hadn’t wanted to arrive too early and have needed to wait.

          They processed me relatively quickly. All of my finger prints were scanned and my picture was taken multiple times.

ID please. State your name, address, and social. Again please. Is this correct? Is this your name address and birthday? Sign here…and here. Stand in front of the camera again please. Are your pockets empty? Do you have your key to the locker for your belongings? See the screens? We will be recording and monitoring you. Here are pencils and scrap paper. These are the rules of the test… Any questions? Place your fingers again on the scanner.

All was done in the polite almost gentle fashion of someone adapted to working with very anxious (and probably belligerent) people. His speech was clear and his words well chosen though not stiff or sharply scripted.

I sat down in my cubicle, placed the center’s earmuffs on, and started the test. The test allows you to flag questions so that you can review them later and possibly change answers. I went through the 175 questions in little over an hour and a half then took a break to use the restroom. Please stand in front of the camera, place your fingers here, and sign here. I used the restroom, washed my face, continued my dialogue with God, and then came back to the test. Please sign here, please empty your pockets, stand in front of the camera, and place your fingers here. I sat back down at my cubicle and began going over the questions I’d flagged (which was any question that I thought about more than once). Deep breath, stretch, pray for focus. Then I reviewed every question again. Deep breath, stretch, and pray. I went back over my flagged questions again. Then I submitted my answers. Deep breath, stretch, and pray. Lastly the computer requires you to evaluate the test center and the test itself.

Collecting my pencils and paper, I headed back out to the monitor. Stand in front of the camera, place your fingers here (he had to hold my fingers still over the scanner-for some reason they were trembling- I laughed at this), and sign here and here and here. Go pick up your belongings from the locker and your results should be done by the time you get back. Deep breathe, stretch, and quick prayer of thanks that it was over.

Looking back I didn’t make eye contact with the examiner. He stated simply, “you passed” and then turned around to hand me my results. I took the paper but my hands were trembling, “What?”

"You passed."

"What does this paper mean? What is my score?" I couldn’t read it, my hands were trembling. "This is your score here."

" What did I need?"

"This number here."

"What does that mean?"

"You passed." He was smiling now. "Here let me put my seal on it. Are you OK?”

"Uh, Yes. So I passed.?” 

I felt a bit wobbly so I went to sit in the lobby area and started to getting teary eyed. Then realized that I must look distressing to those coming in for their own tests, I went out to my car. I reread the results and then called my sister. I didn’t realized how overcome I was until I heard my own voice breaking as I left her a message. I took a few minutes, prayed, and then went looking for the park that I knew was nearby. The week prior, I’d planned on having a time of worship regardless of what my outcome had been. The desire now was overwhelming, almost frantic to get somewhere alone with God.

After turning off my cell phone, I grabbed the ratty flannel I keep in my trunk (when you grow up in northern Ohio you always keep a jacket in the trunk) and shoved my iPod (it has a bible on it) in my pocket. I found a bike trail that wound next to the Olentangy River. There were few people there despite the sunny day. I spent several minutes worshiping, praying, and reading. It was such an amazing time of worship, thanksgiving, and blissful joy. I know the river bank that I sat on, the hawks I watched overhead, and the smell of fallen leaves will be pleasantly imprinted in a deeper place in my memory indices.

I took the test on Thursday morning. Friday through Tuesday I worked 13 hour shifts each night. People shared their congratulations, “Atta boys”, and “I knew you could do it”s. Weekend crew brought in forbidden food to celebrate and I was glad I got to work with them soon after passing my boards. I’d worked nearly every Friday and Saturday for nearly 3 years because of school. Still, I didn’t think much about the test at all. I’d planned on sending out resumes on Friday and was already making my lists of things to do.

After getting off work on Wednesday morning, I stayed up so that I could change to sleeping at night. I visited Harriet Beacher Stowe’s house/museum and then went to Cincinnati Art Museum, thinking that I might not get another chance to see it should I get a job outside of the area. I’d packed my camera and took pics (sans flash) of things that were interesting; A golden plate from Darius the Great of Persia, Cuneiform text from an Assyrian palace, a 1300 y/o terra cotta horse from China, a Damascan prayer room built during the Ottoman rule, Rookwood pottery that has an image of a hawk I’m sure will be the template for my upcoming tattoo, and ornate, intricate watches from the around the revolutionary war. lt was nerdilicious. Then I slept for a very long time. The next morning I woke very late and then slept a very long time that evening. I met with Belinda on Saturday night and I relished sharing with her. We ate waffles. I drove home and then Sunday came. I worked the last two nights and feel like that perhaps tonight is my first real day of rest.

I’m still pondering people’s reaction to my passing boards. Some of it seemed misplaced or awkward. Others seemed even happier than me; this was really fun to watch. So much kindness and apparently so many, many prayers on my behalf. Yesterday someone told me “Congratulations. That really is an accomplishment. You should be proud.” The emotion behind it was strong and from an unexpected source. This is what I find myself thinking of tonight.

A few years ago I was startled to realize that I’m a bit of an athlete. I worked out for years largely because I was in the military and felt it was the right thing to do. I was never a jock; I never played basketball or football. It was always a means to an end. I was also never perfect in my diet or exercise regimen. This year I got into the habit of working out before studying at the library. Now that school is out I work out at the end of every shift before going home. It diminishes my stress, stretches out my sore back, and helps me clear my head before I go to bed. I’ve had a net change of about 40 pounds this year. I lost 30-35 pounds of fat and put on about 5 pounds of muscle (mostly in my legs). Being physically active feels better and has enabled me to do much more than had I might have without it. I became an athlete unintentionally by doing athletic thing intentionally.

Today I’m startled to realize that I’m a big “B” believer. I have always been amazed at people that seem to trust so blindly in God. Often they were the kind of people that irritated because they seemed so fluffy and emotional. I didn’t want all that effusive religious goo to get on me. I loved people that had what I call “dirty faith”. These are those that are really messed up people that stumble and turned again to God. Folks that seemed so much more real that were strong enough (or made themselves vulnerable) to share their real struggles or despite their weakness were doing what we were made to do in service or worship. Much of what I’ve done over the years is because I believe it to be the right thing to do not because I felt emotionally compelled to do so. This doesn’t mean that I didn’t believe in God or that I didn’t believe in the reality of spiritual life, I did and I do. I’ve always perceived myself as a reluctant believer, the adopted but other. Over the years, I have shifted from struggling with what my faith is or means, to seeking out His presence. My realization that I’m a Believer means that I’ve more fully accepted what it means to Believe and how I ought to relate to God.

This is a bit more complex than I can write about here. (and probably way less interesting)

Getting my masters and passing boards was an incredible accomplishment. I cannot see myself as the sole originator of this milestone. I believe that God cleared ienough rubbles off my path that it wasn’t too great for me to struggle over. Huge boulders and bramble that I never foresaw were cleared before I came around the bend. Excess weight in my backpack that I wouldn't put down God shouldered and made it tolerable until I was grown up enough to want to be rid of it. I shudder to think about what I’m refusing even now to be rid of that I haven't wanted to acknowledge. I believe that as I’ve wandered from the path God has goaded, guided, and caressed me back toward the right direction. I know I’ve pulled boulders down over paths that God would have had me walk if I’d been wiser or more humble. Still I'm here looking out at this incredible vista. God isn’t a Sherpa guiding up the face of a mountain so that I may accomplish great things for the sake of accomplishment itself. God enables His servants to do more at times because of His desire for His creation to return to Him. Our accomplishments are vain unless we offer them to the God that has included us in His plans. I am proud that I passed my boards but I value so much more the incredible time of worship and kinship with my Remaker afterwards.

Que Dios les bendiga en su busqueda de Su voluntad.

                    Jason