Yatta!

I love blogging! I love writing! But I hate taking the time to do it! I'm so lazy, but whenever I write, I realize how weighty my thoughts are. There is so much to be unpacked in that little chest of secrets called my brain, but just as I hate unpacking in real life, I hate having to sort out even my thoughts. But as I sit here spending an hour on one paragraph of my personal statement, I've realized things about my life that I never really took the time to notice.

I used to believe that failure was a terrible thing. At a young age, I would see my brother and sister fail my parents’ expectations and so in turn, I strove to be the perfect child that they were not. Unfortunately, this is what led me to become so critical of failure—in others, yes, but especially in myself—that the fear of failure gripped me. So I hid; I quietly excelled and never boasted outright. If there were ever an opportunity to try something new, I shied away unless I was immediately talented, and because of a fear of rejection, I rarely reached out to people, but rather waited for people to reach me. But after four short years of living as a college student, I’ve experienced for myself the lessons that come from failure and trials, and the maturity that follows. And through my trials, I’ve come to understand that the best doctor I can be is not one that graduated at the top of his class, but one who can truly empathize with and care for his patients.

This most likely will be the first paragraph of my personal statement. I will edit it a little, but for now it works well.

A preview

This is the result of 10 min of brainstorming in bed, after spending a whole day at imperial spa trying to think of how to write my personal statement.

I was a person that used to think “avoid misfortune and failure at all costs.” I believed that having a foolproof plan encompassing my extent of study, my career goals, and marriage would ensure that I would have a happy life. But if Jesus Christ did not die on the cross, we would not know his grace. I have learned in these past four years that misfortune is often a blessing in disguise, because it pulls you away from all that you’re comfortable with, and forces you to deal with yourself. You come to realize your shortcomings and grow as a result. Failures, once perceived as a curse, truly do become blessings in disguise. I want to become a doctor because I’ve come to understand this; to remind people that it’s only when they’re broken that they can then be healed.

Hmmmm, it seems that my essay writing has become a little bloggish. A little overly poetic, I feel... I'm still trying to decide how much of God to include. I want to give him the glory, yet I don't want to be preachy... It's a start, and a central theme, at least.

The return of my blog (again)

"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind."

A sermon(seminarish) I've listened to recently was saying that the extent of our transformation is linked to the extent of the renewing that our mind has undergone. Something I've felt these days is that the sins I've yet to let go of is the root cause of my inability to really take off in my service to Christ. I'm held down because I hold on to my old pleasures and desires. Until I let go of my fleshy desires, there's no way that my life can really exemplify what Christ's own life was like. So die flesh! Die self! Die so that Christ can truly live in me!

A dangerous prayer to pray, but necessary.