Dear God,
Thank You so much for being my God. You have walked with me through mountaintops and valley lows. You see me in my worst and love me as if I were at my best. You give me all You have and more through Jesus. My redemption is in Your hands alone. God, thank You for this blessing to try again and to not be broken by my failure. I’m sorry for my inability to have faith and belief. Yet, You never fail to be able to overcome my limitations.
You’re with me here and now and forever.
Love,
Grace
I remember finishing the primary care clinic on Friday at school when I got the email. I sat down on the second floor lounge and opened my part 3 scores to see: “Did not pass” in the overall and skills section of my results.
It was a mixture of not super shocked and disappointed and fear all mixed into one. I had failed. I was going to have to travel back to North Carolina, brave another exam cycle, and wait a painstaking 6 weeks to find out my scores again.
At this point in my 4th year, I was ¾ done with the year and only 3-4 months shy of graduating. Graduating is an amazing feat, don’t get me wrong, but I needed to pass my licenses exams (all 3 parts) to practice as an optometrist. I vaguely recall going to the train with such a tightness in my chest. I was blessed to have passed my first 2 boards, but the last round of my results felt so crushing. What if I couldn’t do enough? What if this is where rubber meets the road and I’m unable to finish the last mile?
So close but yet not enough. I cried. My body sagging with despair at what happened and what now needed to take place. Booking for and paying another exam fee, another hotel and plane, and the emotional toil of carrying these worries for the next few months weighed.
My mind was swirling, and I couldn’t focus on much. Thankfully I was received into a warm embrace from my loved ones, and my parents were immediately supportive and understanding. My dad, the sweetheart he is, told me it’s normal and even valuable to experience failure. He was no stranger to that. My mom told me it’s fine to try again, and she encouraged me that this was part of the journey. My friends mourned with me. My boyfriend held me as I grieved my failure.
Looking back, this is such a small thing to be sad about. I know it’s definitely a first world problem, and most anyone would trade problems with me. I know the fortune it is to fail a licensing exam compared to many other problems and devastations.
I’m not here to look for the pity party, I just wanted to honestly share what’s been going on mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. God’s faithfulness has been so present in it all. My true strength and my kindest friend through it all. God above all showed me that it’s not enough to try hard, and I hated that humility. I hated it because part of me didn’t want to need God to supply me. The ego in me thrived off a false sense of self sufficiency and control.
Here God was reminding me, not cruelly but kindly, that I had not gotten here alone and even finishing this chapter needed a supernatural force that only He could provide. The safest place I could be was kneeled at an altar not on a fragile throne.
By God’s grace through my best friend’s support, I immediately signed up again but the only dates were in May. It was early February, not only was May far away but the results wouldn’t come until much after my graduation. I’d don my cap and gown in fear and anxiety at that point. I kept checking relentlessly, and God supplied me a sooner chance at the end of March. I would find out my scores just 2 weeks shy of my graduation then, and a lot of mental anguish could be saved.
One of my close friends passed, and she selflessly sat through dilations and spent hours of her precious time to allow me to practice my skills (which was the part that I had failed). She already finished her exam load, but here she was with me not feeling satisfied with her own success but mine too. God showed me through her a sacrificial love and the preciousness a friend can provide. That sitting in my pain was important to her.
Many of my friends also prayed and encouraged me. They listened as I shared and cried. I found so much comfort. I think if I had hidden my failure, I would’ve missed out on that compassion. It’s not easy to go through alone, it’s even harder if I pretend that it’s all okay when other people want to hold my burdens with me.
I found myself in continual prayer. My soul so raw and bare: I want this so badly, God, would You meet me here in my desire and help me try again?
My parents were worried but also a source of strength. My mom at the last minute (thanks to Spirit’s affordable flight pricing) joined me for my retake. She ironed my white coat. She prayed over me. She was there for me. My dad was also a source of huge support, and he told me he’d take me back to the airport 6 times if he needed (6 is the amount of times you can take each board exam).
I remember it was so dark as I left the hotel room, and I wanted to have a matcha and a breakfast sandwich before my exam. The streets were mostly empty as I walked to my exam site which also made it a bit spooky.
My heart raced as I entered the familiar space. Could this time be different? I remember those painstaking minutes that had passed by before. I prayed relentlessly. God, have mercy.
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We always find out on a Friday. So here I was again, I didn’t sleep well. I took the day off as a personal day and spent some time with my boyfriend. I was grocery shopping for some ingredients for lunch when the email came and strangely enough my phone didn’t notify me of any emails so I actually opened my inbox myself to find the results had come out.
I was shaking, near tears, as I realized the wondering would come to an end. It was so scary I kept going back and forth on whether I should open my results. What if this was the same situation again? I hated the idea of going back and facing another emotionally draining few months ahead if I failed. I was afraid, but in my heart I hoped I passed. God gave me my boyfriend as a strong and grounding presence as I braved whatever came my way.
One last prayer before we opened the results together.
I passed. I passed? I passed!
I have never cried tears of joy until May 9th, 2025. I was hysterical with relief as I finally let myself experience all the anxiety wash away. I was going to be a doctor. All these years of working tirelessly were going to come to an end and meet a sweet reward of finishing the race. It wasn’t a feeling I would’ve gotten to experience if I had passed the first round. It was a hard won victory. The first taste of food after a fast. A cold glass of ice water after a humid day. There was a surpassing sense of God’s mercy to allow me this second chance and this reversal of results.
I had a wonderful group of family and friends waiting for news, and I was so ecstatic to share that thanks to their steady stream of love, prayer, and support that I had happy news to share.
I was moved by how God used all the moments including my failure to show me that it wasn’t about me at all. It wasn’t about my inability or ability because it was always about what God could do. I did feel like I did better this round, I remembered walking out feeling like I had passed, but to say it was because I was a drastically different person isn’t true. I felt the confidence of knowing that trying again didn’t have to mean I was going to walk out the same. I had a God who turned graves into gardens with me.
I tried my best, and sometimes that isn’t enough but it’s always enough to have God. It’s great to become an optometrist, but I have to remind myself that my true identity comes as a daughter.
It’s hard at the moment to see what God is doing. I think that’s my lifelong struggle at least to look beyond what’s in front of me. Even in a heavenly sense, I live more to store up here than treasures above. God is teaching me that there’s more to life than I know, yet He doesn’t neglect that life here and now is also of immense significance.
I feel vulnerable now because I know that imposter syndrome is looking to strike, my student debt may loom menacingly over me, and my patients are going to look to me as a source of comfort and knowledge. Do I have what it takes? Did I when I passed or failed?
When we look to Jesus, and when He is ours then we have what it takes through Him. God, give me the wisdom and humility and grace to continue on this journey You’ve brought me to.
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As I reflect more, I also consider what this blog might mean for someone who hasn’t passed or has taken a retake with another sour score. What does that mean? What if I had another story for you that ended in another “did not pass” would I be sharing it now? I’m not sure is my truthful answer. I’ve also wrestled: would I still have this same stance if I had failed again? What if I never passed? I don’t think the point of my story was to say God will take us to every mountaintop if we find ourselves in a pit. I think about John the Baptist who died in a prison cell or the many other disciples of Jesus who found themselves at the end of a similar fate. Faith, hope, and perseverance can look differently at the end for each of us, and with all my uncertainty, I ask you to ask God Himself. I don’t want to share my story as a prescriptive answer to life’s longings, it’s just a way for me to boast that in this way I have experienced God’s goodness. I have experienced it in ways that have tasted more bitter than sweet, and I have also experienced it in sunny days too. He’s really in it all with you and for you. That’s the kind of God He is, the king that really loves you.
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