(Inspiration: The Best Day by Taylor Swift)
Have you ever had something you really, really want? And you work really, really hard to try and get it?
Yeah, me too.
When I was little, it was a really cute pink bike with s p a r k l y tinsel coming out of the handlebars.
Then it turned into the pink sparkly nail polish that changed colors in the sun.
Which soon became pink sparkly eyeshadow and lip gloss..
And then completely twisted into those really cute shoes.... a snowboard...a car... the really cute boy in my 10th grade english class...
But as I layed in bed Wednesday night all I wanted, more than any of that, had nothing to do with anything pink or s p a r k l y. It had nothing to do with nail polish, or a car, or even a boy.
It had everything to do with school. Talk about growing up....
School? Let me make this easy...one word. Stats.
Yuuuuuck.
What happened the the pink and the s p a r k l e s, the shoes and fruity lipgloss?
I had a huge Stats midterm the next day. Thursday. I had read the book, done the practice midterms, gone to an intensive 2 hour note taking review, read over my notes... Studied. Hard. For hours. (All this, mind you, was inbetween memorizing 115 flashcards, and reading 60 pages for my Consumer and the Market test..) Regardless, I felt ready.
So as I said my prayer that night, I asked for help. I had studied my heart out, and felt ready for the test. I had done my part, and I needed help with the rest. I needed to remember.
Well, as it always does, morning came.
And, of course, so did Stats. I got my test, and did the first 3 problems. No problem, this isn't bad. And then came the next 2 pages. I sat there. Bewildered. Distraught. Confused. Utterly devastated.
I didn't know it. I couldn't remember- I couldn't remember anything.
I prayed again- pleaded for help...and I couldn't remember.
I had done these problems before why, why could I not remember now? My heart was racing, my legs were shaking, and my jaw was cramping from chewing my gum so fast. I could hear the clock ticking. It rang in my ears and made my whole body tense. It felt like watching a raging thunderstorm from the sand in Lake Powell. I watched my teacher scribble on the whiteboard.
25 minutes remaining......20 minutes....5 minutes.... And then like a blow horn at a basketball game came the words
"Okay, it's time to wrap it up, finish up your problem and place them on the desk up front."
What? No. I had written, erased...re-written and re-erased nearly a dozen times. I had eraser shavings in my hair, on my shirt, even caught in my eyelashes (don't ask...).
The next few minutes were a blur. Somehow I got up, walked down the stairs, placed my test on the table, and walked out the doors. It was only when the bitter cold Logan wind blasted me in the face that I come back to reality. It was over. My test was turned in. I couldn't remember. And there was nothing I could do about it now.
My shaking hands reached for my phone. It felt like hours before she picked up. When I heard my mom's voice I felt the burning hot tears sting my eyes and close my throat. I could barely see where I was stepping they were flowing so fast.
I spat out what words I could and she listened..... and listened. And comforted. And understood. She let me cry. She said it was okay to feel upset, hurt, and discouraged. And it helped.
I asked her why God didn't help me. She told me there must be something else for me to learn.
(Don't worry, I promise it gets better.)
Well, my mom was right. No, I didn't feel all the way better. And I didn't just hurt for an hour. Or two.
In fact, it's been 5 days. And it wasn't until last night, that I finally understood. Finally realized what else there was for me to learn.
Maybe my prayer was answered.
Sure, I didn't understand my stats test, and I couldn't remember my equations. But I prayed to remember. And last night, I finally did. I was sitting in a room full of people when I heard a song that made me remember something more important.
My mom.
I remembered falling off my pink sparkly bike and scraping up my knee. She was there in a second with Neosporin and a bandaid. I remembered racing to the hospital in Canada after getting hit in the eye with a pully (yeah...I'm serious). I was terrified. Until I saw my mom run to my side and wipe my tear stained cheeks. I remembered not getting invited to one of my best friend's Halloween party in 6th grade. I felt betrayed, but she was there with my favorite candy and a pumpkin shaped trick-or-treat pail.
I remembered who sat home with me during every dance I couldn't go to. Who was there when my friends forgot about me, or when a boy broke my heart. She was there. Every single time. Whether I realized it or not.
I remembered all the times I felt discouraged, betrayed, and alone. But I also remembered all the times I felt excited, thrilled, and overjoyed. Because she was there for that too.
I remembered taking first place at my first dance competition. My mom was there, beaming at me from the stands. I remembered holding my first niece. She was there watching me, telling me stories of when I was a baby. I remembered making student government, and getting ready for my first dance. She was there to celebrate with me.
And so as I sat wondering why God hadn't answered my prayer, it dawned on me. He had. I prayed to remember. And I did. I remembered her. And realized she would always be there. Because here I am, a freshman in college, and even though she isn't here to wipe my tear stained cheeks, or give me bandaids when I scrape my knees- she is there to listen, and to comfort. And she always will be. Even though we are miles apart.
So yes, I might have had something else to learn. But I also had something to remember.
And remembering her, made everything else feel so much better.
