TGIF

Today is Friday, and I've never been more glad. This week has been one for the books, and not in a good way. I've had two potential opportunities fall to pieces, both of which were very significant in terms of their impact upon my life. One of them I only learned about this week, and even though it was only within my grasp for a few days, I feel indescribably let down. And the other was something I've been hoping for and pursuing for the past 10 months. I guess not a long time in the grand scheme of things. You know, the eternities. But it's a heck of a long time from where I sit right now. You know, mortality.

I've been thinking about Job through all this, and while I don't mean to compare my situation to his, I find comfort in his example. Because I believe in perseverance, in remaining steadfast and immovable no matter what, and I believe that our character is in perhaps its truest form when we're responding to an overwhelming heap of crappiness. Because how DO you respond when everything falls apart? What are you going to do now, T?

Well, the first thing I'm going to do is wallow, because I believe I'm entitled to that. I'm reminded of a conference talk in which the GA spoke about the tragedy of death. Usually the GAs focus on the miracle of resurrection or the hope of eternal families when circling the big bad wolf of death, but this one (Haight, maybe?), after speaking about losing a dear family member, said simply, "And I miss her every day." He then told another story followed by, "And I miss him every day." And another. "And I miss them every day." Finally, here was a GA admitting that no matter how solid your belief system, tragedy hurts, and it's ok sometimes to let it.

But enough of that. Because the next thing I'm reminded of is the 'Come What May and Love it' talk, also from a GA (Wirthlin?), because isn't that what it's all about? Most things on this rolling sphere of ours are out of our control, and the ability to just roll on is imperative if we want to progress, to enjoy life, and to not get ridiculously depressed.

And why on God's green earth all these conference snippets are coming to mind is beyond me (this is truly an unprecedented post), but in April's conference, someone relayed the story of the currant bush. I won't retell it here, but I remember hearing the story and immediately fearing the worst about my 10-month-long pursuit. This story is for me, I thought. And now that I have become the currant bush itself, I can only trust the gardener will make good on his end. Thank you for loving me enough to cut me down. Sniff Sniff. Tune in next time when I will undoubtedly have been restored to my former glory and be laden with fruit. Er...you know what I mean.

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