Before viewing my university results slip, I asked myself “Would
I still be praising God – even if I don’t get what I wanted?”
I had told myself that the results weren’t important, and
that I did the best I could. And I sincerely believe that. But I had not
realised that I still craved for a First. When I opened the slip, I didn’t see
what I wanted to see. All of a sudden,
the high of graduating and being done with my degree dampened. It had seemed
like my entire academic career fizzled out into a nothing instead of ending
with a bang. It had seemed to me a very sour failure.
What perhaps stung the most was that it was a subject that I
thought I was good at and that I was passionate about. I wasn’t a standout in a
lot of things at school: I flee from numbers, science wasn’t my forte, sports was
done only for fun, and ask me to sing or play a musical instrument and banshees
would boo me off the stage. My peers, on the other hand, seem to wield talent
in multitudinous fields, and always there are those who are better than me in
every single thing. But I derived consolation from the thought that I was good
with words.
Coming to Durham University, I dared not harbour any
ambition. It was daunting coming to the motherland of English Literature, and
intimidating to be set alongside peers whose native tongue is English. I just
wanted to pass my tests. But doing considerably alright for my second year, I
thought that maybe, just maybe, I would have a shot at a First?
So when I finally received my results, all notion of
(perceived) self-worth dissipated.
Will I still praise God?
There is much danger in settling your identity and hope on
things outside of God. Danger – not only because God often cripples our petty attempts
of “self-definition”, but also because we don’t understand the hollowness that
undergirds the fruitless enterprise of seeking fulfilment that is not Christ
Himself. To give an example, I had only first wanted to enter university. Then I
had only hoped to pass my degree. And then soon, I wanted more and more and
more. I suspect that even if results went the way I wanted, I would still be
looking for the next “big” thing to achieve.
Reflecting upon it, the motive is to fuel my narcissism. And
narcissism is something that can never be satiated. Instead, it can only be
trampled down by gratitude. Looking back in retrospect, I’ve learnt so much in
my journey in Durham, and I am growing more and more content that it was not in
vain. He, in His sovereignty, has placed me here in this little city, and there
is so much to be thankful for.
It was here where I learnt much about the beauties of the
English language, where I first dared to publish my writing publicly – both in
the university newspaper and at this blog - where I appreciated the necessity
of precision and the importance of defamiliarisation, where I dared to critique and discuss ideas
that challenged and stretched me and oftentimes overwhelmed me.
It was here where I could delight in taking long walks along
the river, admiring the abundant riches the scenery lays forth. Durham is
beautiful in all seasons, and the city – small, quaint, yet dignified – shines in
magnificence. I could walk through the cobblestoned streets or the leaf-strewn
footpaths for the millionth time, and still be amazed at this gem of a city.
It was here also where I could enjoy some solitude, to carve
out time to reflect, to think, and to be lifted out from my comfort zone,
exploring new ideas and experiences. Living out, cooking meals (that are
actually edible in most cases!), managing finances, and handling bills (and all
the utter chaos it entails). It was here where I tried new things like Zumba,
ceilidh dancing, rowing, park run, eating haggis, going to seminars by
professors I admire from afar. Seeing new sights, travelling within the UK and
without. Most of all, meeting people from all over the globe, seeing how
different cultures intersect, or more funnily, when they do not.
On the subject of people, I am grateful for the family I
have here. God has placed such wonderful friends around me, in college, in my
course, in Malaysian society, in church. I remember World Web where I met some
of the loveliest people who cared for me, nurtured me, disciple me. And where I
met others whom hopefully I have helped in their walk with God too. I remember my flatmates, who have to put up with my silly dances, my lame jokes, and my general weirdness. Who had to live each day with my imperfections and are still willing to care for me, dance along with me, watch movies with me, cook for me. I remember iFocus, the Bible study group for
international students over at Christchurch Durham. When I first joined, I
never thought that we would become this close. We had been through much
together, slight rifts, misunderstandings, hurts, challenges. But I am glad
that God preserved our relationship and brought good out of it all,
strengthening our excitement in His gospel daily. We love each other much, and I
am glad for this group who had challenged me to grow in my love and knowledge
of God, and who cared for me enough to say things that were at times hard for
me to swallow. They have encouraged me daily to look to Christ, and I am
grateful for that. And man, can this group play music / Articulate / Sardines
like no other.
Yet, as much as Durham has monumentally shaped me, I am
perhaps right in saying that the euphoria I have felt surrounding my existence
there will melt into a memory. As I leave the town, I felt a poignant sadness,
not so much because I would be leaving the city, but because I would soon be
okay with the separation. Life is such. You taste the delights of one stage of
life, but you will move on to other stages. I will miss Durham and the people
there, but time will soon wear away my attachment. And I too will be forgotten.
Will I still praise God?
My reaction to my results will show that although I know in
my head “Soli deo Gloria”, I still have a while to go before I live it out fully.
And perhaps it is a struggle that would continue till eternity is ushered in.
But truly, God alone deserves the glory, and that I am happiest when offering
Him due praise. He had created me, and has moulded the universe. He has given
me good things to enjoy. But above all, I was and am a sinner, and He has
plucked me from eternal separation from Him to eternal enjoyment of His
presence. The things I had in Durham – as great and beautiful and wonderful as
they are – still cannot compare to the unsurpassable joy of this honour: that
of knowing Jesus Christ, and being known by Him.
