Some of you are about to hate me for what I am about to say...
I love taking tests.
Whether its a math test, english, IQ, which cartoon chatacter are you most like, or what your favorite color says about your chances at love... you get the idea. Maybe, part of the reason I like them is that I am good at them and the results are measurable. In fact, I think the lowest grade I ever got on a test was a C and that day I was really sick and just wanted to go to bed. Yes, I was the student who ruined the curve. Go on ahead and hate.... I can take it now.
It didn't take long to realize that others didn't want to know that I got the highest score....again. So, I quickly began to hide my achievements and down play them. In college, I had this great friend who knew it was important to celebrate the things you are good at. In our suite we hung up tests and papers with the giant A's on them. We both knew the best A's came from Dr. Tepper classes. We appreciated and encouraged each other successes.
Last week, I had to take a test. Except it wasn't one I wanted to be taking. Do you know the feeling where you've turned in the test and know you did not do well. The answers just weren't there, but somehow you hope a miracle occurs and the score won't be as bad as you think. But you know. I knew what the results would show, but I hoped against hope it might be different somehow. But it wasn't.
And I was crushed. There is something about seeing it in black and white that makes it all the more real. I didn't expect to feel so emotional about it.
With any test, on paper or a test of faith, the results give us information about ourselves. They show us where we are wrong and the places we need to grow. The question becomes what we do with that knowledge. Are we willing to do what it takes to bring the grade up?
Am I willing to do what it takes to make the necessary changes?