So, back in February, an announcement scrolling by on the big flat screen at school happened to catch my eye. The Northrop Rice Foundation had scholarships available, with an application due date of March 1st. I checked out the list of scholarships, and my heart leapt at two little words: Snap. On.
They were awarding five sets of Snap On aviation tools, valued at $4,900 apiece. My heart raced as I opened the application and scanned the requirement list. They wanted an essay. And…….they didn’t have a word limit. I swear, the sun shone a little brighter, the angels in heaven began to sing, and I started to write.
One essay, one transcript, three letters of recommendation, and two weeks later, my application was on its way. The winners were set to be announced at the annual Aviation Technician Educator’s Council’s conference on April 10th, and it didn’t occur to me until April 9th to think about how the winners would be notified. Would they be told after the announcement? Before? Had I missed out? Had I already lost? April 10th came and went without a peep from anyone. So did April 11th. On April 12th I realized our own department chair was attending the conference, and so I set about pestering his administrative assistant for any news. She, wonderful lady that she is, paged him *and* emailed him, and got no response, but assured me he’d be in the next day. Which, if you’re keeping track, was yesterday.
I stalked his office for a few hours that morning before he came in. When I finally saw him, I made a beeline for the door, actually cutting off another student in the process. “Well?” I asked.
“Your name came up at my conference this week.”
“Seems like you may have won a Snap On scholarship of some kind.”
……………I may or may not have made some loud noises…….maybe cried a little…….maybe…
Part of me was still holding my breath until the official email came today. I mean, when I sent it, I felt like I had a winner, but after losing the Delta Airlines Women in Aviation maintenance scholarship…..to a dude……my confidence was a little shaken. But the Delta application had a limit on their essay: 1000 words. I guess I only needed 179 more to get my point across, my point specifically being, “Hey, I’m broke as a joke, help me out here, wouldja?”
I stated in my essay my intent to enter the mission field, and that I’d like to be as well equipped as possible when I finally do, and that that not only included experience, but also tools. Yes, it was part sycophancy, but it’s also unquestionably true. I’ll be taking these very nice tools with me to the other side of the world someday. I’m exceedingly grateful and thoroughly humbled by that thought. I know I don’t deserve to be blessed in obedience, but He does it anyway. Amazing.