Going the whole nine yards

A while ago, I taught a class of some rather spontaneous students. And one of the out-of-the-blue things they did was to ask for an exam they weren't prepared for.

The students came to class, and out of the blue, one of them decided that they wanted to do the exam. She insisted that she wanted to do the exam on that very day, never mind that she hasn't previously studied for it. The other exams were overwhelming her, and she felt like getting over and done with the class I was teaching would give her some relief. And the others jumped in and joined her. They complained of the stress of dealing with so much work, and throwing one piece of load from the bandwagon would make things so much lighter. They even were OK if they failed the paper, just as long as it was out of the way.

So, half-heartedly, I accepted. I gave them the paper, seriously half-heartedly. I knew what it is they were asking, they were pretty much jumping off the twentieth floor hoping to land alive. But I gave it to them anyway. And oh, the complaining I heard during the exam! The ooohs, and aaahs, and what-the-heck-is-this and oh-my-God were seriously overwhelming. My heart really went out to them.

As I was watching them, and feeling really hurt for them, I wondered: How many times have I done the same thing? How many times have I asked God for something, insisted and almost thrown a tantrum, only to mourn when it comes my way? How many times have I justified doing something, magnifying the positives, only to be crushed and hurt when all is said and done?

Am I really willing to go the whole nine yards? When I make a request, am I making it from a wish-upon-a-star point of view, without thinking of the consequences? Am I ready to deal with the downsides that come with the decisions I make? Am I being prudent, or just wishful?

 Am I asking for rain, then complaining about the mud?