Night

Yesterday was really tough.

The dread of starting another semester pounded me into the ground all day. (Forget the fact that I have only two, maybe three, semesters to go before I am completely done with college.) Somehow early morning prayers seemed to fly out the window as if they had been completely empty words. I felt intimidated before even getting started on week one assignments . . . and didn't know where to start . . . and wondered if people who quit when the rubber meets the road are so used to never achieving anything that it doesn't matter anyway.

School.

How can such a little word turn me into such a pitiful blubbering fool?

The pit in my stomach hurt.

Is it really worth it, that little slip of paper that says I was a slave to homework and studying and papers and projects and stress and weariness for four years and didn't let it beat me?

The importance of not giving up and the desire to quit are inversely related, my Dad tells me. I'm no quitter. I will survive. And I won't be beaten.

But that doesn't alleviate the discouragement.

So I try to suck it up anyway and just get to work, except my mind seems to thwart all attempts.

And then God sends me some love, and it reassures. I go for a run with my mom, and she listens, and she encourages. Dad comes into my room and gives me a pep talk, and he prays. My sister asks if I want company, and we study together on the floor, and laugh. Someone sends an email after I tell him honestly about my day, and he writes lyrics:
Be strong in the Lord
And never give up hope
You're gonna do great things
I already know
God's got His hand on You
So don't live life in fear
Forgive and forget
But don't forget why you're here
Take your time and pray
These are the words I would say
      ~ Sidewalk Prophets, "The Words I Would Say"
And this morning I read in my Bible, God's own words to me:
"Even to your old age, I am He,
And even to gray hairs I will carry you!
I have made, and I will bear;
Even I will carry, and will deliver you."
      ~ Isaiah 46:4
I won't be beaten . . . not with God carrying me!

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