Trust

“And…”

My advisor continued to lounge back as I described the experiment which would be the first to confirm our novel treatment method for cholesterol-related diseases. It doesn’t take very much for me to get excited, so he was not expecting anything ground-breaking.

“Tubules!”

My advisor flew forward and nearly fell out of his chair. Not only was our seemingly impossible hypothesis correct, but this experiment also would contribute to the development of a treatment for a disease that our lab had been working on for over a decade and other labs have been working on for several decades. I fought back my happy tears as I explained just how incredibly perfect the project was coming together.

“Now, I don’t want to impede your creative process, but…” my advisor added gently before he recommended an experiment.

As my advisor, he could have just told me which experiment to do. Even if I fought against doing the experiment, I would eventually have to do it. That’s graduate school; you are at the mercy of your advisor, and your committee, and your funding. If you disagree, then you better have experimental proof, and even then, you might as well confirm your theory by doing what your advisor says.

My advisor trusting my creative process meant far more than trusting my work.

My advisor was entrusting the future of the project to me.

That’s a huge deal.

For my Dear Readers who have been following this story since the beginning of my graduate career, y’all already know that it was not easy for me to get to this point. I struggled to find my footing more times than I would care to admit. I nearly passed out in the lab from overworking. I extended myself too far and failed at everything. I lost focus, and I definitely did not look like I was ever going to amount to anything for a while.

But that’s because I wasn’t trusting the process.

The progression of a young researcher goes as follows:

1. Adapting to your advisor’s methodology

2. Appreciating your foundation

3. Accepting your own unique project

I think adapting to your advisor is probably the hardest part of the process. Regardless of the nature of your advisor, there is always going to be a learning curve. Not only do you need to understand their approach to science, but you also need to understand their approach to mentorship. For some, it is very clear and direct, but for others it is a little more fuzzy. In addition, the relationship between you and your advisor is not going to look exactly like those fostered between the other students in your lab and your advisor.

You feel like you are fumbling through the motions, and all you want to do is be important.

You want to contribute, but you do not know how.

However, as you faithfully put forth the effort required to approach your question, your advisor becomes more and more invested in your work. Not because you were not worthy of their enthusiasm, but because you were not ready to tackle your hypothesis yet.

Once you have a testable hypothesis, you move in to the second stage.

It is not as difficult to transition in to this stage, but once you get to the second stage, everything gets a lot more real. Now that you have a hypothesis, the pressure starts piling on. Your advisor brings you to more meetings, talks about more with you, and expects more from you.

Building a foundation for your work can be overwhelming.

But, because you have accepted your advisor’s method, they are there to help you.

In this second stage, you spend a lot more time with your advisor. Even if you are a little more stressed, there is a certain sense of stability with your work. You know that if you hit a pitfall that your advisor will be there to help you figure out a way to improve your methods or change your hypothesis if needed.

There is a certain sense of security in accepting your advisor, and it helps you grow in appreciation for all you have in your lab.

However, there will come a time when your advisor is not there anymore. Out of nowhere, it seems like they just stopped caring about your project. Sometimes they just tell you to try on your own. Sometimes they just invest more and more time in the other students. Sometimes their support just seems to fade away.

But we all get to this stage.

“I do not want to impede your creative process”

The truth is, your advisor taking less time to help you is not a sign that you are unimportant; it means that they trust you. To be trusted in science means far more than being allowed to work more independently; it means that your advisor is entrusting their hypothesis, their source of funding, to you, the little graduate student who knows next to nothing. When your advisor steps back after writing a grant with your data on it, it is arguably the greatest compliment they could give you.

But it certainly does suck.

It’s embarassing to admit how many angry tears I cried thinking that my advisor didn’t care.

I think that the growth of a young scientist is a lot like the growth of a young Christian.

We start out fumbling around, not really knowing what we are doing. Jesus’ name comes up in conversation, and we might know about The Resurrection in an abstract way, but we don’t know how to accept it yet.

However, when we encounter and accept Jesus Christ in to our hearts, everything changes.

When we enter fully in to a relationship with Jesus Christ, the Church feels so much more real. Suddenly, every service, every conversation, every encounter with nature holds more meaning. Each of our actions weigh more heavily on our hearts. Suddenly, not only do we matter, but everything we touch matters.

And it’s overwhelming.

But we know that Our God is with us. With that knowledge, we do not have anything to fear.

Sadly, very few of us live a life of consolation. No matter how sweet, no matter how holy, no matter how devout we may be, we will not be able to sustain the feeling of God’s loving presence right beside us at all times. We can know that He loves us, but it is rare for us to feel just how much He loves us.

This is like when a graduate advisor lets their student work on their own.

It is not that God loves you less.

He trusts you.

Now, it is one thing for a graduate advisor to trust their student with their work. It is another entirely for the God of the Universe to entrust the salvation of souls to broken little souls. Yet in His loving kindness, Our God chose us as His servants. He told us that He wanted us to bring His children Home.

And just as each advisor entrusts a unique project to their student, so too does God entrust a unique task to us.

We are all made to bring God’s love to the world in our own special way.

I have one more point. Even though an advisor grants independence to their students, they also are always there if we need help. It is less obvious than before, but each advisor wants their student to succeed. I oftentimes forget that my advisor cares. However, each time I muster up the courage to walk in to his office after a hard week, I always know that he has an idea to make my project better or a way to handle administrative or social issues in a more creative way.

Just as my advisor trusts me, I can trust him.

Just as God trusts us, we can trust Him.

Even though we are all on a unique journey to Heaven, we are never too far away from God to ask for His help. It often doesn’t look like we expect it to, but God’s love is always present. Just as my advisor is always just an email or an office visit away, so too is our God just a prayer or a chapel visit away.

Our God trusts us.

Do we trust him?