Yes, I am disappointed. Mostly I am disappointed in myself. While I have enjoyed my Comp class, I have tried hard to enjoy my math. When I understand math, I can find it fun actually. When I don't understand it and I have nowhere to turn..... not so much. I had discussed with my husband a few weeks ago how lost I felt. Again, I had no idea that summer courses were half of a regular semester. My math skills, or lack thereof, really need a full 16 weeks to blossom. I know that I will get it; the question became more how quickly. The answer? Not quickly enough. I am looking forward to repeating that class next semester.
It's okay! While I am disappointed, I also know that I worked harder at this than I thought possible. I devoted whole days at a time to math. I did learn a LOT. Unfortunately, it was learned very quickly, and some was forgotten because the concepts were finally grasped as the next chapter began. <Sigh>
I didn't expect this to be easy. However, I expected that it would be easier. I truly feel as though this is what God wants me to do. Eventually becoming a specialist in my children's disabilities will not only help to serve them, but I also feel that I am supposed to go on a missions trip to India one day and help people there. While I would rather go to Peru, or almost anywhere else, I feel like India is where I am supposed to go.
I am thankful for my writing. I truly feel that I write better than I speak. I swear, while speaking I feel so scattered, I never seem to say the right thing, I never know what to say, and I'm either talking too quickly or sometimes I start stuttering. I put my heart into writing, no matter what I write about. I know that I am far from the best writer, or the most organized or pulled-together, but it is such a huge part of me.
When I was a child I wrote a LOT. I wrote songs, I wrote poetry, and I started writing a book. As a mom, I seemed to forget about writing until my daughter got sick. Then it became a way of venting because so few people understood the severity of her conditions, or even why it was a big deal to me. While that should be a no-brainer, people seemed genuinely stumped about my sadness for her. So I began to write again as an outlet. Next thing I knew, I had a group of other mother's that were going through the same things that also blogged. And then I had people that had children that were just diagnosed that reached out to me for help. I realized that there was power in writing. I could help people, I could educate people, I could help to change the perceptions of the disease, and I could fight back against the diseases that threatened my child. When I started my writing journey, I started it as a very depressed mother that could not seem to find hope in anything. Between my writing, my church, and my amazing family, I rose above the depression that fought to overtake me to become the person that I am today. Writing isn't just a class for me; it is my life. While it can be difficult to write in a different form than I usually use, it was exciting to explore different ways to write, and it was great to learn how to properly credit people. I don't think that I have ever not given someone proper credit, but it is nice to know that I was doing things pretty well. It was also nice to learn how to create a bibliography. Tedious? Yes. Complicated? Oh my gosh, yes! But it was a great lesson.
So now I will continue on knowing a little more, thinking about how I write things more, contemplating different word choices more, but likely enjoying writing a little more every day.
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