I've been trying to figure out where to start this story. From a dramatic standpoint, it's compelling to start it as I drive down the road, heading from Marshall to McKinney, as the lightning flashes around me. Or I could start it from the moment I discover that my Xbox 360 has been stolen from my dorm room - the second time such a theft occurred within a month. But I've decided it's probably best to start from the beginning of the day.
Thursday of finals week. Three finals down, two to go, and they're my two most dreaded finals - Intro to International Relations and Real Analysis. I already know I'm not making an A in Intro, but I'm hoping to pull out a B. And as long as I don't utterly fail my Reals final, I should be able to make an A - my scores in that class up to that point had been high enough that I didn't have too much to worry about. Still, it was an upper-level math course, and one must never be complacent with an upper-level math class.
I know I said I'd start at the beginning of the day but, well, midnight is the start of the day, right? At that point I was probably watching my fifth or sixth episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer season 3, since I had a day off and it was on Hulu. My textbooks and notes from the two previously mentioned courses were around me, and I would offer an occasional glance at them, especially during the commercial breaks. Finally, I decide it's time for bed. I brush my teeth, set my alarms (I use my cell phone as a primary and my alarm clock as a backup. I've only overslept once, and that was my freshman year. If it ain't broke, don't fix it), and after reading a chapter of Proverbs, I went to bed.
I'm pretty sure my dream involved me in some sort of Buffyesque scenario (six episodes will do that to you), but the details are murky there. I got out of bed, brushed teeth, drank a glass of milk, and went to take my first final. It was pleasantly simple, and even though I didn't have a clue on about half of the multiple choice questions, I had confidence as I powered through the two essays. At this point, I feel pretty good, especially after I get back the research paper I bluffed my way through to discover a 90/100. All this optimism, however, was about to get thrown out the window.
OK, I really do need to backtrack at this point. After Thanksgiving break, I returned to my dorm room to find my Wii and two Rock Band microphones stolen. Not the 21" CRT TV. Not the N64. Just the Wii and the microphones. (And a Wii game, but that's hardly important right now.) I figured someone accidentally left the door unlocked, and some hooligans snuck in and grabbed it. End of story.
Flashback over. I return from my first final and notice the 360 is gone. Again, TV and N64 are untouched, along with the half-dozen Rock Band instruments I have sitting in the corner of the living room. I was ticked. I got as close to wigging out as I ever get to wigging out. (That is, I smacked a wall with my open hand and vented about it on Facebook.) After a few minutes of surfing the interwebs to calm down (which didn't really help), I went to the campus sub shop to get myself lunch, since I still had a balance left on my student debit account and really didn't feel like going to the cafeteria.
I decide I don't particularly want to eat my sub in the Student Center that day, and therefore make my way back to my room. At the time, it was either raining lightly, or had recently stopped raining. Regardless, as I walked back, I was splashed by water from a puddle splashed up by a passing car. Yes, that old cliche that happens to mopey people in movies and TV shows happened to me in real life. Looking back, I smile at the irony. In the moment, though, I was upset.
The sandwich was no good. The bread was too chewy and the whole thing lacked any decent flavor. I wasn't particularly hungry anyway. Regardless, I ate the whole 6" sub, allowing me to spend the remaining 30 or so minutes trying to focus on the upcoming final. I don't think any of that stuck, but it was a valiant effort nonetheless. Having done as much studying as I can, I leave for my final final.
This final is, appropriately, pretty stinkin' hard. I have a decent handle on some of the material, but the rest is familiar in name only. I'm pretty sure the concept of a function being continuous left my brain early for Christmas break, which is a darn shame, because I really could have used it. However, I eventually am satisfied with all my answers, knowing full well that some of them are at least mostly wrong. I turn in the test and leave to go clean my room, still in a rather sour mood internally.
You don't really want to hear about me cleaning my room, right? Right. The only important factoid is that my Dad helped me move some things, since he was en route from Virginia to McKinney. I'm sure he would have come anyway if I had asked, but it's a detail to know.
So, there I was, driving down the road from Marshall to McKinney. The weather throughout the drive was either light sprinkles, medium rain, or heavy downpours. (I even got to have it hail on me as I drove for the first time. That was exciting.) We were taking backroads to avoid holiday traffic or something, which meant that when the lightning flashed, it lit up the whole area, which had previously been obscured by shadows. And that's when it hit me.
A revelation, mind you, not the lightning. I'm not sure what ideas all came together in my mind, but I remembered C.S. Lewis saying something about pain being God's megaphone. When lightning strikes, of course it brings some amount of destruction, but it also brings illumination - even if it is brief - to the darkest of circumstances.
I won't say this was a pull-off-to-the-side-of-the-road, give-my-life-to-God kind of revelation, because it wasn't. It was God speaking at me through a megaphone. I didn't need to give my life to God because He already has it. I needed to realize that and stop being an idiot about a collection of plastic and metal I call an Xbox. Did it have some sentimental value? Yes. Did I log more hours than I'm comfortable admitting on that thing, and therefore lose some save data? Yes. Did it cost a lot of money? Again, the answer is a resounding yes.
But God, through the juxtaposition of "You Probably Shouldn't Move Here" by Five Iron Frenzy on my car stereo and the torrential downpour surrounding me, reminded me that things are things. They're temporary. They can be replaced. Almost all of them won't matter in 100 years, and my Xbox certainly won't. Was it aggravating that it had been stolen? Yes. Do I need to be more mindful of my things? Yes. But that's not the main lesson. The main lesson is that God is in control of every single situation, no matter how small, and He always will be.
This afternoon, as I was finishing unloading my car, I noticed that the ornament I had gotten at the Theatre Christmas Party had broken. Completely my fault - I should have realized how fragile it was. But it the rush of packing, I had neglected to give it any sort of special care. The damage was irreversible - a great gash in the side of it. But I didn't mourn too long. I liked the ornament, and I was grateful to the person who had given it, but that wasn't what was important. I had been reminded that every situation is in God's perfect, redeeming plans, even when life sucks. Whether it's a broken ornament, a broken arm, or a broken heart, God has a plan for it that is unspeakably wonderful. I just hope to see the other side of the tapestry some day.
