Freestyle Friday - Pride

WSo doing this study of Daniel, pride has come up pretty often. Especially with Nebuchadnezzar ... he basically lost his mind and ate grass for 7 years because he wouldn't admit God was the Most High and stood on his balcony celebrating how great he was instead of repenting.

I don't feel like I struggle a lot with pride. Which made me uneasy. So I prayed that God would reveal any areas I'm prideful about.

And He did. Apparently I'm proud of my willingness to try. My spontaneous spirit and my sense of adventure. Ouch. I really like those things about myself.

From as early as I can remember, I wanted to be a veterinarian. Then I worked for one my senior year of high school. I was already accepted to Texas A&M University (Whoop!) and enrolled in the biomedical science program under the college of Veterinary medicine.

What I saw at the vet clinic was that, at least at a small animal clinic in East Texas, you mostly saw relatively mistreated or somewhat neglected animals that were too far for preventative treatment. Like cats brought in for spaying that were already pregnant with full-term kittens. Dogs so full of heartworms that to kill the worms would also kill the dog. I wanted to help animals get better, not help them leave this world.

Plus, for whatever reason after my traumatic tonselectomy I had become squeamish. Watching surgery made me dizzy and trying to empty an anesthesized cat's bladder almost made me sick. Great. Some vet I'll be.

Then there were my grades. I didn't learn to study in high school. I didn't really apply myself more than "enough." I just stopped at enough instead of really challenging myself. So college was a big shock for me. After my first semester things got downright hard. Everything wasn't always fair. Some professors were just plain mean-spirited and tricky. Plus I was in the "pre-vet/pre-med" weed-out major.

But dad-gum it ... I earned my degree. I stuck it out and I still got my B.S. in biomedical science only one summer after most of my peers. Partly thanks to my dad talking me out of switching to journalism (which A&M doesn't even offer anymore).

Anyways, in the past week I've had a few opportunities to "play vet." As I was driving to a friend's house to try to medicate a calf I was thinking "OH maybe this is why God gave me the desire to be a vet! Here I am 37 and getting to work with animals! I'm so helpful! Anybody want my help, here I am! I'm so going to write about this!" Here I was, almost uncharacteristically confident, on my way to do something important.

My friend and I chased a calf around a pasture and some woods for a while and didn't get any medicine in anybody. We didn't even lay a hand on that calf. THEN I somehow broke their gate on my way out when I opened it. The opposite of help. I seriously asked her if there were hidden cameras filming for a reality show. Two women who don't know what they're doing trying to manage cattle.

You know what else I did in the past week? I stuck my arm halfway up to my elbow in a ewe and still didn't feel the lamb she wasn't able to pass. No help. But I didn't pass out or throw up so I'll consider that progress.

I really am always happy to help however I'm able! I'm not scared of much! But I'm not a vet. I don't know what I'm doing. So all you might get is a few laughs. And a smile lit by the blush of humility.