Letters Between Sundays

“The Lord says, I will guide you along the best pathway for your life. I will advise you and watch over you.” – Psalms 32:8

I wasn’t expecting a 9:30 a.m. ballet class my senior year of college. I wasn’t expecting a roommate who was a stranger. I wasn’t expecting to have free time. I wasn’t expecting to have a season of happiness.

What I was expecting was 8:00 a.m. nursing classes, a full schedule of clinicals and labs, and no time to breathe—let alone time for God.

During the summer I was placed on the waitlist for the nursing program. To give you some backstory, my mother is an R.N. and I wanted to be like her when I was little. She was someone to look up to. There were times she would take me to work with her (she worked in home health care), and I would play with the kids and watch my mom be a superhero.

Fast forward to sophomore year of college. I was supposed to be applying for the nursing program, but instead I was crying into my mother’s arms because I had “failed” organic chemistry. If you are a nurse, or if you’ve taken Orgo before, you know how hard it is. I thought my life was over, that I was off track and wouldn’t graduate on time. At that point in my life, I hadn’t given my life to Christ yet, so I felt like I had no one to lean on, no one to trust, and no one to help.

Junior year, first semester, I took organic chemistry again… and failed again. I wasn’t as distraught because I had another semester to try. By then, I had a toxic friend in my life who was the root of so much of my struggle, but I had also given my life to Christ on June 6, 2024. I wrestled with the thought of nursing not being the path for me. I kept telling myself, “I’m helping people—why would God not want that?” Still, I pressed on.

Finally, I passed with a 77%. That night I cried, relieved, and applied for the program. I felt confident I would get in. Why wouldn’t I?

When I received the email saying I didn’t get in and had been placed on the waitlist, I thought my life was over… again. I sobbed and blamed God. I told Him He was wrong, that He had made a mistake. After pouring out my anger, I broke down, wept, and repented for everything I had said.

Psalms 32:8 is my favorite verse. I struggle with letting go of my future, telling myself that life is a race and that falling behind makes me a failure. But what I didn’t know at the time is that God doesn’t see me as a failure. He doesn’t look at me with disappointment because I didn’t get in. He sees a daughter with passion, drive, and perseverance. He sees a daughter who needs to trust Him—not a program, not a diploma, not my mom, and definitely not myself.

So here I am, graduating with a bachelor’s in Health Science, Communication, and Business. I’m taking a ballet class at 9:30 in the morning and several online business courses. I have my blog, bakery, podcast, book, and YouTube channel. But none of that really matters, because at any moment God can take it away—and that’s okay.

Because the only thing I need is Jesus.

I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I know Who holds tomorrow. And that is enough.

Sincerely,
Letters Between Sundays