11 years ago, I decided to pursue a career in medicine in order to serve the poor. I wanted to use my passion for science to heed the deep sense of justice I developed as a child growing up in a broken home. It didn't take long before I walked away from this dream in college-the competitive pre-meds annoyed me and I didn't think I had it in me to compete with the best. After graduation, I went to Africa thinking I could find an alternative route to helping the poor with science. I found many, but none that inspired me like medicine did. Working with Mercy Ships, an organization that performs life-saving surgeries for patients suffering from cleft lip and palates, massive tumors, fistulas, cataracts, burns, etc. changed me permanently and drew me back towards the flame of my first passion....to work in medicine. I witnessed first-hand the devastation caused by a lack of healthcare...many of the conditions treated on the ship, not to mention thousands of deaths in Africa every day, are 100% preventable with proper healthcare. No other choice made sense to me other than to return home and apply to medical school. Here was my second chance to pursue my dream. So I returned to the Bay Area, found a research position at UCSF, studied for and took the MCATs and applied.
I did not receive a single interview.
In the meantime, God presented another second chance. A second shot at loving Benjamin Melli. We had dated in college. For one reason or another we broke up and three years later, against both of our better judgments, we fell in love again. October 7th, 2007 was the best day of my life, becoming my best friend's wife.
The discouragement from all the med school rejections made for a very tempting way out. I thought about trying something completely different. Eventually I applied to DO school but then withdrew. Ben and I decided to move to Denver. He could attend seminary and I could find something else to do when we got there. So I gave my notice at work and we planned our move.
For our 1 year anniversary, we decided to splurge and went to Rome on our way to visiting my sister and brother-in-law who were living in Copenhagen at the time. The day we left, Ben was called in to a meeting at church where the idea was pitched to him-how would he like to start the youth ministry at our church's brand new Millbrae campus? It would mean a whole new position and he could start school at Western Seminary. What did they mean? We were moving to Denver, of course we couldn't help start a ministry in Millbrae, thought us. But that short meeting was all we talked about in Rome. By the time we got to Copenhagen, we had almost warmed up to the idea.
At the time, it seemed like it would be so much easier to leave. Start over, leave behind some confusing and hurtful situations, make some new friends, breath some fresh Rocky air. But then, it seemed God asked us to stay. I'll never forget sitting across from Ben in a dim cafe in Copenhagen (where he ordered a coffee and they brought him his own french press, which neither of us had used before and weren't quite sure what to do), crying a little, no idea what this would mean, but saying, "if you want to do this, then I'll gladly do it with you." Gladly because for some reason I didn't understand at the time, it just felt like obedience. He laughed a little, took my hand, and said, "let's do it."
Two and a half years later and I can't even count the blessings that followed that decision, the greatest among those being the relationships-with kids, families, friends. I was able to get a new position at UCSF, Ben was able to start seminary, we got to move into this huge, beautiful house that became a second home for many kids...it's been amazing.
So once we knew we would stay, I looked into my local options, just in case I could still pursue medicine in some way. I found UCSF's master's entry program in nursing. The more I researched it, the more I couldn't believe I had looked over it in the past. It was perfect. The role of the nurse practitioner seemed to fit my personality and goals way better than the role of the physician. It made me glad I didn't get into med school because I would have missed out on this program! The only problems were that I needed to take 3 pre-requisites and get a stellar GRE score. My boss was gracious enough to let me drop down to part-time, Canada College was close and convenient-so I knocked it out.
Somehow, even though I was working part-time and attending school full-time, I managed to have Fridays off. Each Friday morning Ben and I rode our bikes to Portola Valley and back. Looking back that was one of the sweetest seasons in our marriage thus far.
In September I submitted the application to UCSF. All the things they wanted I knew I had. Great recommendations, GRE scores, grades, community/volunteer service, international aid work, academic publishings, etc. I felt good about it.
In December I received a letter. Ben and I sat on the couch together, he said a prayer and then opened the envelope for me. He paused a little too long while reading it and during the pause my heart sank. No interview. End of story. I remember crying into Ben as the previous year and all its efforts of taking classes, studying for the test, commuting, etc. crumbled. And the future standing dark and blank. The thought of reapplying seemed silly because that was a whole year away-much too long to keep doing the same thing as before. That night, Ben said, who cares about UCSF, let's apply to other places. Ok, I said, but really I thought, we just helped start a church. We can't leave.
The next several months were uncertain. I started taking classes in order to apply to other local programs. I bumped back up to full-time. As a way to channel my frustration, I signed up for a Half Ironman. We were super busy and at the end of the semester, I still had several more classes to take to even apply to the local programs. They just seemed dim to me, it felt like back door entrances to the dream God had designed for me. So finally, at the beginning of summer 2010, I decided to swallow my pride and reapply. If I didn't get in this year, then I would quit my job and find something new.
Around that time, our students that were freshmen when we came, graduated high school. Such a sweet moment for Ben and I after 4 years of witnessing them grow-I can't even imagine what that moment will be like as a parent. At one of the student's graduation parties, I met a family friend who is a Pediatric Nurse Practitioner at Stanford. Talking with her about my bruised dream was a breath of fresh air. It felt as though I had stored the dream in a dark and moldy room, afraid of taking it seriously again out of fear of rejection, and she flung the windows open, allowed the sun to shine on my dream again. She also invited me to shadow her and another PNP at Stanford. Amazing.
Also around the same time, a nurse I work with hooked me up with some of her PNP friends at UCSF whom I also got to shadow. All of these experiences combined with excellent editing help from coworkers and nurse friends enabled me to turn in a very different package than the year before. I felt great about my application. After submitting UCSF's, I typed into Google: best pediatric nurse practitioner programs. I found the top 10 and if I met their requirements, I applied. Just in case.
In December I received an envelope from UCSF. We sat on the couch again. Ben prayed, opened the letter and this time there was no pause. I received an interview!! Shrieks, tears, hugs. Incidentally, I also interviewed with Yale and University of Pennsylvania, the top two programs in the country. All interviews went beautifully. Especially the UCSF interview. I felt almost certain I was in.
About a week later, I heard back from U Penn-ACCEPTED!! I remember reading the letter over and over, making sure it was actually addressed to me, that it actually said YES. I just couldn't believe that after all this time, I get to be a nurse! But at the same time it made me nervous because if I didn't get into UCSF-we might move. But I tucked that thought away.
That night at youth group, I was a little antsy around the kids. Like I had this wonderful secret-but to them it wouldn't be wonderful, perhaps awful. Ben announced the church found a new place to meet, Crestmoor High. Apparently kids refer to this school as "Pen" because I was having a side conversation with a kid in the back while he was talking and all of a sudden I hear kids saying, "What! We're moving to Pen?!" My heart stopped. How did they know! But then I realized what was going on and took a deep breath. It was going to be a long couple months. I wasn't supposed to hear from UCSF until April and we were in the first week of February.
Over the next month, I received acceptances from Boston College, Columbia, and Vanderbilt, some of the best programs in the country! I thought UCSF was in the bag.
The last week in February, I received a letter from UCSF. Ben and I sat on our same spot on the couch for the 3rd time. Once had been tears, second had been squeals of delight...what would this envelope bring?
I have to back up and explain that in the month between hearing from Penn and UCSF, I received an overwhelming sense that we were meant to move to Philadelphia. Everywhere I turned, there was mention of Philly. A man at a pasta shop, a student's friend, the radio, books I was reading...constant whisperings of PA, Philly and the school specifically. So much so, that I became nervous I would get into UCSF because I knew we would automatically stay and I would wonder if I had been ignoring God's call. Perhaps God knew I would ignore Him and so intervened. Perhaps not. But this is what happened:
Ben opened the letter, took a pause, the bad pause from the first time, the pause that says, 'congratulations' was not in the first line.
Waitlisted. It seemed surreal. How could it be true? And yet, in light of the past month, in the midst of enormous disappointment and heavy confusion...a sigh of relief. We could heed the call I had been hearing.
Ben booked tickets to Philly that same night...for the following weekend. We figured we needed to visit the place we were going to leave our wonderful life for. He booked a motel, rented a car, set up appointments with realtors...he stepped up when I was too confused and sad to do anything.
The day we left for Philly I got a call from Yale-accepted there too. So officially I was accepted to every program except UCSF, including two programs ranked higher, Yale and Penn. It felt more and more like God's hand was holding us. I loved Penn, it's an absolutely beautiful school. We figured we could make Philly work.
We found ourselves in another cafe, this time not in Copenhagen but on Rittenhouse Square, less than a mile from where our country's constitution was signed. It was pouring outside. I was finally able to articulate to Ben (through a lot of messy crying that attracted looks from the fancy cafe) how guilty I felt for asking him to come to Philly with me. For me, it means starting the program of my dreams at the best place in the nation for my dream. For him, it means leaving an amazing job at a thriving church, his school that he loves, friends, a growing youth ministry...How many times in a pastor's life can he/she look around and describe their circumstances that good? And I'm asking him to leave it behind for an absolute unknown. Furthermore, and this one really brought on the tears, I feel guilty for pulling Ben away from the kids. I love them like they are my own and leaving them will break my heart. But I couldn't stand the thought of plucking Ben out of their lives so that I could follow my dream.
Once again, I'll never forget sitting across from him in that cafe, when he called that out for the lie that it is. He told me that we are in this life together, that he is not irreplaceable at the church and that it is his privilege to do this with me. If you are still reading at this point, I want you to know how amazing I think my husband is. For a man to give up a situation where he is providing for his wife and finds happiness in his work to go to a place where he does not know how he will provide or what he will do or who he will be able to trust...it is a true act of service and love to me. My husband is Jesus to me in many ways.
So here we are...a few weeks left in our beloved home and by that I don't just mean the house but the friends and the family and the church. I was slightly terrified to tell the church but we have received unbelievable encouragement and support. The character and faith of our church, the elders included, has shone just a brightly now as always. I think some of the kids are angry and I don't blame them. Most of them are sad. I wish they could know our sadness in leaving them and how much we cherish them. I trust God to make it known to them in ways that they need.
A few years ago, we looked around at our circumstances and felt a deep desire to leave, but God, through provision, encouraged us to stay. Now, we look around at our life and feel a far more profound desire to stay, but God has made it clear that we should go. Who are we to act like we know better than He where we shall be used by Him. It is our JOY to follow Him to Philadelphia and we look forward to the adventure.
And that is WHY we are moving to Philly.
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