My Degree is Done; My Path is Unclear.

I spent much of my summer with my desktop as my view, finishing my MA in Constitutional Government, Civics, and Law. There were moments I wasn’t sure I’d make it. But thanks to my family, my classmates, and daily swimming breaks with Fritz, Lars, and Wells, I graduated last Friday.

This summer intensive was exactly that: intense. Every week packed in a full semester’s work—hundreds of pages of reading, papers, assignments, and a final exam every Friday. After the first class, I felt like I was drowning, barely keeping my head above the flood of daily demands. Thankfully, Erik and Mary took over far more than their share of shopping and housework. This was the summer I drove no further than five miles from home, skipped weddings and gatherings, and traded hiking trails for textbooks.

I love what I learned over the past two years, but more so, I love the people I met along the way. My cohort was filled with incredible classmates and we complained to each other, shared notes and ideas, and petitioned our professors for mercy. Most of my classmates are middle school and high school teachers, and I have enormous respect for their intelligence and passion for teaching. And I’ll you what, ask me anything about our constitution or government, and I can talk your ear off. The bottom line: we have an extraordinary constitution with checks and balances designed to provide freedom, security, and opportunity for all. If we can keep our Constitution, and not let one branch of government seize too much power, our nation will continue to survive and thrive.

One unexpectedly brutal aspect was the physical toll of sitting and studying for so long. Headaches from screentime, a back that went out in the first week, constant soreness, and nausea. Even with early morning gym sessions and late afternoon swims, I couldn’t regulate the stress. The final weeks I ran on a cocktail of Tylenol, Advil, Excedrin, and Diet Coke. Every single symptom vanished within days of the program ending. Lesson learned: I am not cut out for a desk job.

Which leads to the real question: what now?

This degree was the culmination of a twenty-eight-year plan to become an Institute Instructor for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. When Hans was a baby, my friend Karen told me after scripture study, “You should be an Institute teacher. Put all your eggs in that basket—it will pay you back.” She knew I loved the scriptures, teaching, and connected easily with young adults. Institute offers voluntary, non-credit religion classes at the college level, creating a uniquely powerful learning environment.

So, I put my eggs in that basket. Until recently, women with children under age 18 weren’t eligible, but I was willing to wait. I studied, taught wherever I could, and kept preparing. It’s not prestigious or well-paid, but it feels like a calling. Wherever I’ve taught, people have told me it’s my gift: asking good questions, listening carefully, letting the Spirit guide.

When I learned a master’s degree was necessary to teach Institute; I began pursuing a degree. And when that degree was too hard on my family and I dropped out, I still felt like I was progressing towards my goal. Teaching temple preparation classes, teaching as a guest institute teacher in the YSA and stake, pursuing this degree, and especially being assigned to Dr. Andrew Teal felt like signposts along my path.

When a master’s degree became required, I pursued one. When family life forced me to drop out, I found other ways forward—teaching temple prep, subbing at Institute, pursuing a new degree, and eventually studying with Dr. Andrew Teal at Oxford. Each step felt like a signpost. Everyone I told said, “You’re the perfect person for that job!”

Then I applied.
And was turned down flat. Not even an interview.

So, where do I go from here? I don’t know yet. My thesis advisor says I should turn my thesis into a book. Oxford beckons with the possibility of a PhD. I could reapply to Institute in January. But with two new babies in the family, my people need me most right now, so I’m taking time to think.

I thought I’d mapped a sure path. I thought this degree was the final piece. But here I am, facing a road with more twists and turns than I expected.

And maybe that’s the point. Maybe faith is taking one step forward when you can’t see the path ahead.