Defeated before Lunch

Some mornings I can feel the day's failure as if it we're biting hard into my shoulder, snuggled awkwardly in bed with me, before I even open my eyes. It's sharp, rough, and icy, and the scent of it fills my mouth with the bitterness of burned, silty coffee grounds. That was how I awoke this morning, and instantly I felt the kind of tiredness more companionable to an 80 year old than a 20-somthing woman. It makes me feel so empty and useless, as if every effort to be kind, and loving, thoughtful, to be the gospel to those around me is going to teeter and fall upon my first step.

So well before noon, with the hours tick tick ticking by, I feel defeated. It's like that dream I keep having where I'm in the last year of college and all of a sudden I realize that I have 4 tests in the morning and that I haven't been to class in over a month. There's panic swirled with hopelessness, the heart-racing kind that grabs your breath and brain and freezes both.

But I know it's not hopeless. Although I can't feel this knowledge, it's still comforting. It's comforting in a philosophical, collegiate way that doesn't touch the pulse. But still it's there, and that, in it's way, is a deep comfort.

"But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my savior; my God will hear me." - Micah 7:7

Jenny Smith

3705 Oceanview Drive, Denton, TX, 76208