The blog

Someone recently sent me this poem:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other
people won’t feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

I have come to realize – for reasons I cannot explain – that I have an aversion to joy.

Seriously. It’s like this: I crave it, I want it, I dream of it and fantasize about the joyful life I desire, but the moment that something good crosses my table, I let it pass by with this extreme hesitation and fear.

Is it because I don’t really want to be happy? Is it some twisted form of self-sabotage? At the core of my being, why would I rather displeasure and dissatisfaction?

I mean, I like the idea of joy and happiness and peace, but I turn away from it at every given opportunity.

Let me give you an example.

This summer, I have wrestled with the notion that medical school might not be the right path for me. I have been on the pre-med track since the spring of my freshman year, and because of it I’ve taken lots of chemistry courses and was scheduled to take physics, biochemistry, and possibly genetics this year.

A moment of silence to grieve my sanity and well-being. Okay moving on.

I remember the first time I ever contemplated medical school. It wasn’t from watching my uncle perform eye surgeries or hearing local Griffin residents praise my grandfather for his medical services or from walking into a hospital and being in awe at the kind of work they do.

My first thought of medical school began with – get ready – Grey’s Anatomy.

Ah, yes, the on-going drama of crazy hospital cases, surgeries, and love affairs wooed poor, naive, 13-year-old Anna. Bless her.

I distinctly remember in my 6th grade science class learning about the different bodily systems. By the end of the year, I was able to draw a person and sketch out all the major systems of the body, their main components, and explain to someone what each part did.

I showed my Mom this skill, and she was so impressed and said, “Wow, Anna. You should be a doctor!”

To which I instantly replied, “Absolutely not. Way too much school.”

I love learning, and I love school, but 12-year-old me had her priorities straight.

I remember falling in love with music at a young age. I started piano lessons at the age of six and continued performing until the age of nineteen. Classical music made me feel so alive.

I can so vividly recall falling in love with writing and literature and poetry as a child. I never stopped journaling. I would read multiple books in a week. I would gush over the way that both novels and research inspired me alike. I couldn’t get over how brilliantly words on a page could make my soul feel seen. Paper and ink had this beautiful way of saying everything I could feel but could never articulate.

As a teenager, I would imagine my future in different ways, but I would always see myself sitting in a window-nook somewhere in a romantic city in the northeast reading and writing to my heart’s content.

This idea brought me so much joy.

But this idea never satiated my pride.

My first ever college advisement appointment was the summer I graduated high school. I told my advisor, “I like psychology and I like writing. What should I do?”

His response, “Double major in psychology and communications and you’ll be good to go.”

“Great. Thanks.”

No thoughts. No hesitations. For a brief moment, I knew exactly what I wanted, I had a sure peace, and I made a quick and easy decision.

For a brief moment, I was pursuing joy.

Then, soon enough, this daunting voice inside of me reared its ugly head and whispered,

“That’s not enough.”

“You won’t make enough money“

“You’re too smart not to do something more respectable. Go to medical school.”

The thoughts never stopped. They spiraled and consumed me until eventually I decided to give in. I would make the decision to become a medical doctor.

I’ll decide to work at my uncle’s ophthalmology clinic and shadow physicians.

I’ll decide to take organic chemistry and nearly die (exaggeration? I think not).

I’ll decide to forfeit my religion minor and pursue more scientific academia.

I’ll decide to study for the MCAT and lose precious time spent at home over summer break.

I’ll decide to live in a constant state of fear and stress, always wondering if what I’m doing is impressing anyone, if those around me are proud of me, if those watching know how smart I can become.

Somewhere along the way, pursuing joy became the enemy, the hindrance to success, the key to laziness and a path to a career that isn’t respectable or admired.

Somehow, my love for reading and writing became a burden. It became a past-time that distracted me from my medical trajectory.

Eventually, piano no longer filled me but rather frightened me. Time dedicated to anything other than chemistry or biology would hurt me.

Time spent with friends and family became wasteful.

Perhaps I’ve become addicted to stress. Maybe I’ve accidentally associated pursuing joy with choosing the easier path. Maybe I’ve confused denying myself for Christ’s sake with denying the calling on my life.

How am I supposed to know if pursuing joy and peace is not the same as chasing comfort and familiarity? How can I ensure growth, success, and know that what I’m doing is pleasing to God and not just some easy cop-out to a strenuous career?

There’s a chance I’ll never really know the answer to those questions, but I’m pretty damn confident I do.

I know that my recent decision to drop my pre-med classes and fully commit to my psychology degree was pleasing to God, because for the first time in a long time, I am in the pursuit of joy.

Pride has finally taken the back seat.

And what could be more pleasing to God than to seek first His kingdom and His righteousness? The Kingdom of Heaven being His joy, peace, and righteousness itself?

What could be more wonderful to the Lord than to allow Him to make “manifest the glory of God that is within us?”

What if I really believed I was the salt of the earth and the light of the world?

Would God ever be mad about that?

I know peace and comfort are not the same, because pursuing peace will always be one of the hardest decisions you’ll make. The end-result of seeking God’s peace will always be growth and success. Chasing comfort will always lead to complacency.

That’s how I know the difference.

That’s where I learn to trust the Lord and truly believe that He has ordered my steps.

That’s why I’m confident to publicly declare that medical school is probably not for me. I know that if I share my heart publicly, I am held accountable to protecting the peace of God within me.

I’m now held accountable to always be in pursuit of joy.

Anyone reading this is now obligated to hold me to this standard. You have been recruited and you cannot step-down from this position. Sorry, not sorry.

And of course, I could wake up one day and change my mind, and maybe God might reveal to me in the future that being a medical doctor is His will for me.

But I won’t plan on it. I won’t plan on anything, because the will of God is a mystery, and His hand will guide me from one door to the next, and I need not be afraid.

I now no longer have chemistry and physics labs and MCAT prep to worry about, so what should I do with all this new free time? I’ll probably go to Barnes and Noble and pick out some new books to read. I’ll probably blog and write more. I might swing by Hugh Hodgson to play piano again. Maybe I’ll find some interesting research in the psychology department. I might take a cooking class or go on a long walk with my dear roommates. I might burn my lab coat and chemistry textbook (kidding!)*. Who knows As my parents have always so lovingly told me,

“The world is your oyster.”

Let us all take one big deep breath. Here we go. All together:

Inhale the joy,
exhale the pride.
Inhale the peace,
exhale the fear. 

Liberate yourself from the fear that’s holding you back. Give yourself permission to pursue joy. Tap into the light that is within you, and watch your newfound sense of freedom liberate those around you to do the same.

A domino effect. Imagine a world where everyone chased after what really brought them joy.

Imagine how much pleasure that must give the Lord.

Imagine all the good that would be witnessed and accomplished.

When good things come across your table, grab hold of them without hesitation. There is nothing admirable about submitting to fear.

If you want to study psychology or art or literature or mathematics or biology, DO IT. If you want to take care of the environment and help develop more green spaces and sustainable energy sources, by all means go for it. If you love sports then watch them. If you love ballets and operas then go attend them. If you want to be outside, be outside! If baking and cooking bring you joy, then bake and cook until your house smells of warm flour and butter and herbs.

Please, let us keep filling this whole earth with little and big joys. Let your small pocket of the world be filled with color and art and adventure and all things good and all things God.

Thank you Mom, Dad, Nan, Gaga, John Wesley, and my close friends for showing me that I will still be loved no matter what I choose to do.

And thank you God for still using me in your kingdom always, no matter what degree or job I hold.

¹³ May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Romans 15:13 NIV

*not kidding