Sharpening the saw: mind, heart, body, and soul
I’ve been trying to write this blog post since July, even rescheduling my days to awake at four thirty in the morning. That is how Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou and Eleanor Roosevelt fit writing into the busyness of their lives. This is how I’ve managed to keep up with my own writing schedule. However, at forty-thirty in the morning, I lamented over absorbing another Greek lesson whether it was the declension of a noun, verb or adjective. Or another fourteen-word vocabulary list. I didn’t contemplate the eight-week accelerated summer New Testament Greek language online class would grab me by my ankles and toss me upside down. But it did. As I type this post, it’s week eight (four days before the final exam) and I’ve finally stopped crying out of frustration. I’ve come to peace with not immediately grasping this language.
When enrolling in this class, I heeded the warning: treat this class like an eight-hour job. That should have been a clue because I have not worked a regular eight-hour job since leaving the newsroom in 2006. For me studying Greek was a twelve-hour nightmare and I wanted to quit.
Normally, three to five hours of my day is devoted to some kind of writing whether it’s a blog, research or something in between. However, I could not even focus thirty minutes of my time writing a blog, a diary entry or reading a chapter for research. Five days a week I went to sleep by ten only to wake up at 4:30am and slog through the homework that I seemed to never finish. It took me thirty to forty minutes to translate one sentence, and there were fourteen assigned sentences every night. You do the math.
Studying this language at an accelerated pace, for me, started as “Greek hell.” New alphabets and new sounds combined with declensions of nouns and verbs adjectives and definite article and pronouns. Six verb tenses with different endings. Unlike English the language has three genders, feminine, masculine and neuter and it’s not biologically, but grammatical. Verbs are most important because one verb tells the reader the gender and the number of people doing something. Therefore, recognizing verb endings was necessary. So, imagine my torture on day three when I had not yet mastered the alphabets, vowels, or diphthongs. Then the preceptor says where’s the main verb and remember the verb will point you to the subject of the sentence. I couldn’t distinguish a noun from a verb or a definite article or adjective, nevertheless the main verb or its ending. And for a woman who doesn’t cry, I wept. Although the psalmist says, “weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning” (Psalm 30: 5b), he didn’t say how long it would take or which morning joy would show itself.
Day after day, lesson after lesson my confidence depleted. Has your confidence ever been shaken? You feel like you understand, but your lack of understanding outweighs what you do know. Then you feel helpless and as if you know nothing. I felt this way for seven weeks.
I struggled with pronunciation because when I saw and still see the Greek letter “v,” I forget it sounds like an “n” and a “p” sounds like an “r.” Additionally, Greek is like math; I was never good at math. Greek words require adding and subtracting letters to both the beginning and the ending of a word to change the kind of action, gender, or quantity. At this pace, memorization was required. Like math, memorization is not my thing. The only word I recognized in Greek was “kai” which means “and.”
During a live session with the professor, we would translate a few words from a Bible passage. I desperately wanted to participate. I wanted to show that I had been studying, but sadly I didn’t even recognize the word “was” (nv in Greek) a familiar Bible passage. My eyes grew cloudy with tears. My heart thumped and I wanted to shrink away from the screen. I knew “in the beginning was the Word” just not in Greek.
I pressed on day after day. I met with a tutor sometimes three days a week. I’d say “emu.” She’d correct me with “aime.” She’d give me tips for memorization. But my memory was failing me. I was always two lessons behind. On Wednesdays, I was still reviewing and studying Monday and Tuesday lessons, making note cards, adding onto my six page study guide. One reason why at forty-thirty in the morning I could not write, there was more Greek homework to complete, a quiz to take, a video to watch.
I had no confidence in myself or my ability. I began to wonder how I even earned a doctoral degree. Was I an imposter? Why couldn’t I master this language, remember the vocabulary words. The very thought of going to class and reading out loud gave me hives and heart palpations.
After one hour in the precept and thirty minutes in live session, I’d find myself taking refuge in a familiar task like laundry, or simply drinking another cup of coffee and eating. Sometimes prepping dinner for two or three days gave me comfort, but in reality, it was survival. The less time in the kitchen, the more time I could study Greek. I despised Greek.
I called on the saints to pray for me. I needed strong prayer warriors who would blanket me with prayers because I could not do this alone. I’d lay prostrate on the floor before class and beg, I mean begged God to teach and instruct me.
One morning while reading a devotion about peace, it became clear that I lacked God’s peace because I’d become so discouraged I couldn’t rest in his peace. Apostle Paul tells us “…the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7). However, verse six says “be anxious for nothing, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” And I was anxious. I fretted. I worried. I was crazy.
One day I called my mother. She asked me how Greek was going. I told her. She said remember God brought you to the seminary, he gave you the scholarship, and he will equip you. Your success is not for your glory but for God’s glory. Then she reminded me, of Sunday’s preached message: “Do not lean on your own understanding, but trust in the Lord.”
The comfort of my mother’s words were soothing to my soul.
And then she asked, “What will you do if you fail?”
At that moment, the peace of God flooded me. I simply said, “I will take it again what else can I do.” My confidence is in God not myself. I no longer trusted myself, but God.
When I genuflected in prayer, I prayed not only for me but all the students taking Greek. I prayed for the preceptors and the professor. Someone in the Princeton Facebook Group posted Marvin Sapp’s song “Thank you for it all.” I listened. I sang. I listened. God’s peace flooded over me. I shared the song with my husband.
I finally had peace knowing that Greek life was not the end of me. One of my classmates had sent me that message during week three and my husband had given me that same advice at the end of week one.
Well, the joyfulness came at the end of the sixth week, more delight in the seventh week, and on Friday, August 21, 2020 I will and am rejoicing.
I know you’re wondering if I passed. Well, I’m not going to try to be clever with some Greek words at the end of this post because, I’m not that fond of Greek. And you will have to follow my seminary chronicles to find out if I passed and what happens when I take the one credit Greek translation class during the spring semester. Yep that’s right, as much as I never want to see another Greek word, Greek will not get the best of me.
Thanks for reading.
Until next time,
Angela
I am so proud of you. I am so blessed to be a part of your breakthrough of realizing that God had given you and assignment, and He would see you through if you trust Him. Tears run down my face in gratitude.
Indeed, tears of gratitude. A mother’s love is so necessary.