When I first started doing research there was limited choice of biology projects in my university - that was how I ended up researching in molecular biology for about a year and a half. My mother found it incredibly entertaining that I ended up working with the tiniest units biology dabbles in, because apparently I had a tendency to like small things and particularly small toys when growing up. Small dolls that were around 5 mm tall, tiny houses and utensils, anything small that I could spend a very long time setting up (and then maybe play with for about 5 minutes) were the idea I had of a great time. Now as I set up experiments in tubes that can hold maybe 200 µl, pippeting incredibly small amounts as low as 0.2µl (for a reference of how small that is, the volume of a drop of water is of the order of 20-50 µl, so 100 - 250 times smaller than a drop of water), my skills developed in setting up tiny houses have come in very handy in the lab.
The only frustrating part I have found with molecular biology is that things are so incredibly tiny that you can't really see what you are doing for a really long time - a lot of it is moving small amounts of colourless liquid to other tubes with small amounts of colourless liquid - and hoping for the best. You spend a long time setting up an experiment - preparing or ordering reagents, using online databases to design primers that will determine what chunk of DNA you want more copies of. You then carefully try to follow a little 'recipe' and put all those 'ingredients' that often don't look any different than water and then wait a few hours of different temperature cycles and see what the readings of the machine say.
Sometimes, you find out that you forgot an ingredient and that all of it was a waste of time. Other times you find out that your preparation wasn't good enough. Far too often it doesn't work (or does work) and no one knows why - but hey, that's just the way biological sciences work.
But then there are the incredibly rewarding times when it does work! Even though you weren't sure that you were doing the right thing, you followed the instructions that other scientists have discovered, you followed them, you put a little faith in the equipment you used and that its readings would be accurate and... voilá! It did work afterall!
The journey can be incredibly challenging and requires huge amounts of resilience. After my first research project in molecular biology I almost left research entirely. Not being able to see what was happening in real time, depending on long and expensive procedures and gambling that maybe on the 36th attempt it would work... made me feel like I had no control over my work.
Growing up as a student, researcher and person I have had to grow more acquainted with that feeling than I would have liked to. Naïvely I assumed that this was a feeling unique to research, but as the following sequences of failures, occasional successes and complete uncertainty about the future, I found that biology - ironically the greek for 'study of life' - was also preparing me for life outside of the lab.
The same way that I liked setting up my little tiny toys, I also discovered I liked setting up my life - nice and neatly organised, building up towards a future I envisioned. 12 years ago, I set up my life to be an architect. 11 years ago I set it up to be a doctor, but I ended up starting studies in hope to become a biomedical engineer. I set it up next to go to study in the Netherlands, then England, and somehow ended up in Ireland. Forget biomedical engineering, I now wanted to do a PhD in Cork - but I ended up going to do a masters in neuroscience, and starting a PhD in Oxford. Not unlike research, I set up my experiments in one way, they worked a completely different way, and no one knows why. Well...no one?
"I know, O Lord, that a man's life is not his own; it is not for man to direct his steps."
- Jeremiah 10.11
I did try very hard to direct my steps and set everything up, but things turned out completely different. Sometimes the outcome was far more challenging and difficult than what I had planned, some times it ended up being less prestigious and others more prestigious. Often the way God set things up was incredibly frustrating, stressful and there were many tears along the way - but I think I can put confidence in the 'read outs' that these are not isolated chaotic coincidences: they were events which prepared me for a future that I could not yet see or even imagine.
Perhaps the reason why I like small things is that I am near sighted - as in, I physically have myopia. In several societies in the past, I probably would be considered blind and a useless member of society. If we go back far enough, I probably would have been eaten by a bear already. Perhaps in the metaphorical sense this is my issue too. My eyes form the image of things before the beams of light have hit my retina. This makes my eyesight for things that are close very good, but quite poor for anything further away. I form an image of what I want to aim for too soon. I focus on what is close because that is all I can see. My physical eyesight can be corrected by my glasses, but the metaphorical aspect is not quite as straight forward. There is no way that I can see into the future.
Often I have found myself asking God to show me things, to open my eyes, to help me see where I am going when trying to make decisions. I have asked him to reveal things to me and correct my sight - which I thought was entirely consistent with a God that returned sight to the blind. But was it?
"I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them. But those who trust in idols, who say to images, 'you are our gods' will be turned back in utter shame.
Hear, you deaf; look you blind, and see! Who is blind but my servant, and deaf like the messenger I send? Who is blind like the one committed to me, blind like the servant of the Lord?"
- Isaiah 42.16-19
This passage really surprised me when I read it a couple of months ago. It suddenly put into question many prayers I had made when seeking guidance for the future. I always thought that as a Christian, seeking God's will we would have extra insights and that he would show me things clearly. In hindsight, this didn't often happen. My prayers were for me to be able to see what God was doing, not about trusting him in whatever he was doing. But a lot of my life and things that happened to me were less like having a carefully detailed map to get from A to B, but stumbling in the dark while trying to get to B and somehow ending up in Z instead.
A few details that I find interesting about this passage are:
- "along unfamiliar paths" - being in an unfamiliar path without seeing sounds, well, a lot like being lost.
- "I will turn the darkness into light before them" - for things to 'turn into light before them' they need to be dark in the first place
- "make the rough places smooth" - for him to be the one making things smooth they need to be rough in the first place
All in all, this sounds like frightfully awful business - being blind, lost, in the dark and in rocky terrain. It definitely does not sound like the sea of roses some people try to sell Christianity to be. And yet... those who are called to this frightful situation, God's servant who does not trust his own sight, his own step and his own knowledge of the terrain - the potential idols in this metaphor - those are the ones God says "I will not forsake them". So... the choice is between your own perception and steadiness vs. the help of the creator of the universe that can flatten mountains, create light, and knows everything. Rationally, with these two choices, it sounds like there shouldn't even be up for debate. But anyone that has experienced suffering is not inclined to walk voluntarily into circumstances such as these. Often life is not clear cut and the 'decision according to God's will' does not have flashing neon signs pointing in a particular direction. He is not yelling with a megaphone where is the dark place he will be with us in. In fact, our prayers are often met with eerie silence.
Therefore, I will not even try to over rationalise this with theoretical answers that are no good. I am currently in one of those places of doubt and silence, and if I had a clear and obvious answer I wouldn't be here in the first place. The best I can do is talk from where I am.
There are a few things I have found comfort in. Obviously, prayer and God's word rank highly. But often the past - ours and of others - can bring a comfort absent in the present. Seeing other times in which God has broken through darkness can reinforce trust in him in spite of our blindness. What are things that God has done in the past in your life? There have also been other brave and wise Christians that have come ahead of us and have trod paths of uncertainty and pain - what do they have to say?
"We commented to Corrie [Ten Boom] about the practicalness of the things she recalled, how her memories seemed to throw a spotlight on problems and decisions we faced here and now. "But," she said "this is what the past is for! Every experience God gives us, every person He puts in our lives is the perfect preparation for a future that only He can see.""
- Elizabeth Sherrill in preface to The Hiding Place, by Corrie Ten Boom
And as a prayer for someone in one of those situations, I recently found Psalm 143. Where comfortingly we find even David in a very human situation crying out to God for guidance, which could be a helpful guide to prayer.
"Lord, hear my prayer,
listen to my cry for mercy;
in your faithfulness and righteousness
come to my relief. (...)
Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I entrust my life.
Rescue me from my enemies, Lord,
for I hide myself in you.
Teach me to do your will,
for you are my God;
may your good Spirit
lead me on level ground."
- Psalm 143.1, 8-10
