Wherever We Land

The phone buzzed, a persistent vibration against the quiet hum of my afternoon.  I glanced at the screen, a name flashing that always brought a smile.  But today, the smile that started to form froze halfway there. The voice on the other end, usually light and teasing, was thick with emotion.  “You got it,” she breathed, the words barely a whisper. “You actually got it.”

Time seemed to stop.  The world outside my window, usually a blur of traffic and distant sirens, faded into a muted backdrop.  “Got what?” I managed, my own voice a croak.

And then she told me.  The words, the culmination of months of hard work, late nights fueled by lukewarm coffee, and a persistent, nagging self-doubt that I’d battled every step of the way.  The grant.  The fellowship.  The opportunity I’d dared to dream of, but never truly believed could be mine.

My breath hitched.  A wave of dizziness washed over me, not unpleasant, but overwhelming.  For a moment, I couldn’t speak.  I just held the phone, the cool plastic pressed against my ear, listening to the echo of her joyful tears.

The first thing I did wasn’t jump up and down, although the urge was powerful.  It wasn’t to immediately start planning or celebrating.  No, the very first thing I did was close my eyes and whisper a prayer.  “Thank you,” I breathed, the words rising from the deepest part of me.  “Thank you, God of my fathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  Thank you for this blessing.”

It wasn’t a rote prayer, a quick formality. It was a genuine outpouring of gratitude, a recognition that this incredible moment, this dream come true, was a gift.  A gift that felt divinely guided.  I thought of all the times I’d felt lost and overwhelmed during the application process, the moments when I’d almost given up.  And I knew, in the quiet stillness of that moment, that I hadn’t been alone.

Then, and only then, did I let the joy truly bubble up.  I called my family, my closest friends, the people who had cheered me on, wiped my tears, and believed in me even when I’d doubted myself.  I shared the news, my voice trembling with excitement.  And with each call, with each shared laugh and tear, I made sure to give credit where it was due.  “Praise God,” I’d say, my heart overflowing.  “This is His doing.”

It’s easy, in moments of triumph, to take all the credit.  To bask in the glow of our own achievements.  But I believe that true success, the kind that resonates deep within our souls, is rooted in gratitude.  It’s acknowledging the forces beyond ourselves, the faith that sustains us, and the love that surrounds us.  And that’s why, in the midst of the champagne toasts and the excited chatter, my first instinct was to thank the God of my fathers, and to share the joy, giving Him all the glory.  Because this amazing, fantastic news wasn’t just about me.  It was a testament to the power of faith, the strength of community, and the unwavering belief that with God, all things are possible.