Why I need math: a lesson in my humanity (and humility)

A humorous heading from one of my
study prep books

I don't like math.

This isn't a recent development. In elementary school, I remember sitting down working multiplication problems thinking, "I don't like this." In middle school, I disliked math even more when variables starting showing up — "Why put English letters (something that I like and understand) in with all these numbers (something I don't like)? Why work one long division problem for 10 minutes? Why can't we agree to just use decimals and no fractions, or vis versa?" Once algebra rolled around in eighth grade, I really hated math. Math was the source of many, many tears from eighth grade through twelfth grade — my brain just doesn't think that way!

(As a side note to any of my former math teachers who might be reading — I'm extremely thankful for y'all and your patience. I liked y'all, just not the subject matter — although I did end up kind of liking Algebra I and II in high school!)

I've made it through 12 school years of math classes, four ACTs and one SAT with math sections, (and hours of lunch break tutoring sessions for those ACT sections — thanks, Mrs. Mars!), and two college math courses — and I've lived! I'm not kidding when I say one of my greatest accomplishments is finishing all those math classes.

I'm 24 now, and I'm faced with more math — the GRE (basically a big version of the SAT) for entrance requirements for masters' programs. I took it in July, and I'm taking the new version tomorrow. The whole test is hard, but I'm dreading the math.

In the past two or so months, I've started to realize the root of why I dread math — it reminds me of something terribly painful. It reminds me that I'm human, which means I'm fallen, which means my brain doesn't work properly. It reminds me that even though I might work for hours and hours, understanding may not come. How frustrating.

Perhaps most painfully, it reminds me that I'm not good at something, no matter how hard I work to understand it or compensate for it. I hate admitting that.

Throughout the years of agonizing over math, I've just told myself that math is something the Lord has used in my life to teach me the importance of working hard. That's certainly true. Until algebra in eighth grade, school came very easily for me. Were it not for upper-level math (and science), I probably would have never learned to work and study hard.

But now, I'm starting to see that teaching me to work hard isn't the sole purpose of this thorn in my flesh. When I sit down to work a math problem, and I can't figure it out, it reminds me that I'm human — I'm broken, messed up, and not perfect. And that's really hard for me to admit. I like having it all together. I despise not being able to figure something out or understand it.

I'm a lot like that in life. I like having it all together. I really hate it when I can't figure something out — whether it's a router, map, computer, whatever. I'm a fixer — if I see something, I want to figure it out and fix it. I'm the same way when I meet with my students — I want to have all the answers, and I hate having to say, "I don't know" or "Let me think about it." Once I've put my mind to it, I don't like having to ask someone else to help me figure it out. Why? — because it means admitting weakness.

Often times, I've found that my cry to the Lord is a simple, "Lord, I just want to understand [insert life problem here — algebra, a relationship, pain, etc.]."

And unlike a true math problem, we don't always get answers in life. We can't always solve the problem. We can't plug the number into the equation and make it work.

Throughout these past few weeks of studying, I've tried to remind myself of the Bible characters who told God, "I don't get it, but OK." I've tried to admit and take my inadequacies to the Lord. As I find myself getting frustrated with a geometry problem, I take a second to mull over a Bible verse or two (usually one about man's best efforts being futile, but God being sovereign over all things).

I still really dislike math, but I'm thankful the Lord is using it again in my life to make me run to Him. Is it painful? You bet. But pain isn't necessarily a bad thing — it just reminds me of my humanity. I don't have to get it all figured out, and honestly, I won't ever get it all figured out. And guess what — that's OK. Jesus never demands that I get it all figured out — He's figured it out for me, and He's done it all perfectly, with no mistakes.

Jury duty

Several weeks ago, yours truly got summoned for Memphis jury duty.

I know what you're thinking: "No big deal! You live in Atlanta now."

Yes ... however, I haven't changed my residency. When I first moved, I didn't know if I'd want to stay in Georgia for a while, and I was still thinking about grad school in Tennessee. Having lived in Georgia for four months now, I know that I like it, but I'm still not sure if I should try to change my residency. It's just easier to keep it in Tennessee, right?  — until you get called for jury duty.

I got my summons several weeks ago and spent about a week and a half calling the office to try to see if I'd be exempt. I wasn't able to get hold of anyone, so I drove 6.5 hours on Thursday to get home to Memphis. (To clarify; I'm OK with serving, and I'm not trying to get out of it. I just wanted to see if I could sign up for a slot without coming home three days early, or if I was somehow exempt because I live out of state.) I'm just glad it was close to Thanksgiving, and I'm thankful my boss was understanding about me having to come home this early.

Reporting for duty was ... an experience. It should have taken me about 35 minutes to get downtown from my house; it took me an hour and 15 minutes. Thankfully, I wasn't late, but I was certainly frazzled.

There are some interesting characters in my hometown — I already knew that. When I entered the room of 5,000 potential jurors, I headed to the back and seated myself. Little did I know I'd be close to a woman who yelled at the judge to "Shut up!" when he greeted us at 9:15 with a cheery "Good morning!" I also didn't know I'd be sitting close to a man who was telling everyone that he couldn't serve because he didn't have a driver's license "due to a run-in with the law," but "they're still gonna make me serve! My buddy served last year on a case, and one of the other jurors was a murderer!" Oh boy.

I made it through jury selection unscathed, and even got my second preferred time slot. Apparently, Shelby County is the only place that allows jurors to select the week that they serve — whew! I'm very thankful for that.

I'm sure I'll have some great stories/meet some great characters when I report back in January for my week. Should be interesting.

A cooking post: chocolate chip pound cake (oh yes!)

As more of my friends graduate and/or get married, I'm noticing more and more food/cooking blogs popping up everywhere — either my friends are posting links on Facebook, saving them on Pinterest (my latest weakness — add me!), or blogging about what they've cooked lately. 

I swore up and down that I wouldn't turn my blog into that — and I'm not, at least not yet. (No offense to my friends — I do like reading your cooking adventures.) However, I promised several girls that I'd post this recipe, so here's one cooking post ... hope you enjoy. 

Anyone who knows me (or has ever eaten with me) knows that I have a huge weakness for sweets, especially the really high-carb ones. (Isn't that always how it goes? Ugh.) Several years ago, my mom started making this wonderful chocolate chip pound cake, and now it's definitely one of my top three favorite desserts. She usually makes it for my birthday (that or a cheesecake, which is another top three fav). Since I wasn't home for my birthday this year, I asked her for the recipe. (And sorry I can't cite it, but it's probably from Southern Living.) 

It really is pretty easy, and it's SO delicious. I decided to take it with me to girls Bible study — and we (ten or so girls) ate the WHOLE THING in 30 minutes.

Here's the "equipment" you'll need:

Non-stick bundt pan (bought mine at Walmart, and it works great! make sure it's a 12 cup pan)

Hand mixer (you could probably do without it, but it'd be a pain; again, grab a cheap one from Walmart)

Two mixing bowls 

Measuring cups & measuring spoons

The cute apron isn't necessary equipment — but oh so recommended. 

I mean, who doesn't like Anthropologie's adorable aprons? 

Ingredients:

1 cup butter, softened (make sure it's softened, or it will be a pain!)

1 cup sugar

1 cup light brown sugar

1 1/2 teaspoon vanilla

3 eggs

2 1/2 cups flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt (optional: I omitted it because we were out, & it turned out just fine)

1 cup milk (I used lactose-free milk because that's what I drink, but you can use whatever!)

1 1/2 cups mini chocolate chips (or ...  the whole bag. and of course I used the whole bag — did you need to ask?)

Instructions:

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees (our oven cooks too hot, so I adjusted it to 325). Grease your bundt pan, and be sure to grease it well, especially around the middle core/tube area. I recommend using a spray with flour (or just dust the pan with flour after you grease it). 

Ready to go!

Cream the butter, sugars, and vanilla. Beat them a while until the mixture is fluffy. 

Add the eggs one at a time and beat the mixture each time you add an egg.

Combine the flour, baking powder, and salt in another bowl. Add this mixture to the butter/sugars/vanilla mixture alternately with the milk. (So take part of the flour/baking powder/salt mixture and add it, then beat. Then add some of the milk, and beat. Then add more of the flour/baking powder/salt mixture, and beat. Then add more milk ... you get the idea.) Keep it up until the milk and flour/baking powder/salt have been completely beaten into the butter/sugar/vanilla mixture.

It should look smooth like this.

Now for the great part — stir in the mini chocolate chips. Be sure to sneak a few for a taste test (duh).

Don't you love the smell of chocolate?

Pour the mixture into your greased and floured bundt pan. Bake at 350 degrees (again, feel free to adjust if your oven cooks hot) for 60-70 minutes. You may need a little more time, but mine was definitely done at 60 minutes. Do the traditional "stick a toothpick in it" test. Let it sit in the pan for 10 minutes, then flip it onto a large plate. You can put it a cake holder, or you can keep the bundt pan covering it. My mom likes to keep the bundt pan covering it to help seal in the moisture — I definitely recommend that, especially if you're going to be serving it over a number of days. It helps keep it from getting too dry.

Don't panic if it looks a little brown.

Now for the best part — serve it up to your friends! Be sure to take it somewhere so you don't end up eating the whole thing on your own. :)

Yum.