It's a slower, more painful kind of torture. The kind where you study your heart out for four different classes, trying to find the right balance of studying for each one. The chances of over studying are slim but the chances of understudying are sky high. We only hope that the final will not butcher the grade we have worked so hard to maintain throughout the rest of the semester. In the last few hours we have left as time creeps up the final, we try to cram all of our knowledge into our heads, but there isn't any more room!!! It is like that storage room that finally gets too full. Something has to go. We feel like it's going to be our head, with a great big BANG! When we (finally) get to sleep that evening before our first final, our dreams are filled with images of us being late for the test, having our cellphone go off and getting thrown out, or... failing. By the time we actually find our way out of those nightmares, our alarm clock is going off. There is nothing for it now, it is finals or bust. We slink out of bed and get ready to go, all the time trying to bring to mind all the information we had just been studying the day before. It isn't working. So frantically we pull out all of our notes and read over them a few times, but somehow it all seems to be in a different language... ah yes, it's Spanish notes. It is time. As the teacher prepares to hand out the final you realize there isn't really anything more you can do. You've prepared as well as you can, now it is in Christ's hands.
Lois Johnson, avid writer, tea drinker, and reader but first and foremost, avid Christian.