Finding Hope

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I went to church last Sunday to find hope. I've been down since I haven't heard anything back from the schools I interviewed at. I thought that all of my interviews went great, but I guess they didn't like me. Anyways, that's beside the point. I've started to lose hope in my future. Several of my friends who are also applying to MD/PhD programs have had more interviews than me and have already received a couple acceptances. I'm sitting here with four interviews, which is great, and no acceptances, no so great. I know that I'm supposed to be a medical scientist and I know that I am supposed to be going in this path, but it sometimes seems/feels like I'm not cut out to do it (according to schools). Because of all of this, I went to one place that I used to give me hope.

I arrived right when the service was starting and sat alone in a pew (until an older couple sat by me halfway through the service). I sang the hymns, thought about life during the sacrament, listened to the speakers, and showed respect during the prayers. I genuinely wanted to be there and find hope again, but nothing came. The talks were touching and from the speakers' hearts, but they didn't instill me with hope for a better life or future. I didn't receive anything for going to church, no sense of hope and belonging and no feelings of truth and happiness. If anything, I only liked learning about the lives and experiences of the people who were speaking.

After sacrament meeting, I waited until almost everyone had left. Nobody came and talked to me during that time. When I decided to leave, the bishop grabbed me. He sat me down in the chapel and talked to me for a bit. He asked me about how work was going, how I was doing, how my interviews had been, my plans for the future, etc. He showed to me that he did care for me in some way, but he didn't give me what I was looking for. He was just happy to see me at church again, especially after his visit to my apartment where I told him my whole life story and about dissatisfaction with the Church.

As I have been thinking about the experience over the past week, the one lesson that I learned from it is that hope comes from the inside. You have to truly believe something will happen or that something is true in order to receive hope from it. Hope cannot come from anyone, but yourself.

4 comments:

Ned said...

I agree, but as a swimmer, I also think hope comes from being one with the water.

And as a Mormon swimmer, I think it's nice to be physically reminded of the day I got baptized.

And as a gay Mormon swimmer who takes delight in metaphors, I like to be able to choose to immerse my air-breathing, land-adapted, bi-pedal body in a deadly but live-giving liquid, isolated from the hard reality of land, floating the the warmth of womb-like immersion, horizontal rather than vertical and still able to move forward on my breast, or my back or my side.

So does returning to the pool sound at hope sustaining? Or have you never left, thus there is no need to return?

Mister Curie said...

The waiting is such a frustrating time. I'm hoping for you too!

MY VIEW said...

I'll always be happy your there, even if I'm not there. I'm here. LOL! But I'm with you in spirit :-)

Leilani Westhoff said...

Christ.... :) Hope you're doing well.