The Bravest HospitalityPosted by Tonya Salomons on Jan 25, 2016 in Journal | 0 comments
I messed up last week. I was sitting in my Research Methods class trying to understand terminology that makes my head hurt. I had been at school since 8:30 that morning and it was pushing 7PM. I was fighting my second bout of an irritating cough, the first having felled me on Christmas day. I. So. Don’t. Have. Time. for more sickness. I felt ragged, like someone had wrung me out and then tossed me aside, like a limp, damp dish cloth.
I saw the Voxer message come through on my phone during class and my heart sank. It dawned on me even before I heard her beautiful, grace-filled voice on the message I had missed my deadline.
I don’t like missing deadlines. How could I have let this happen?
Of course grace abounds. Of course my friend is kindness and understanding as she extends a do-over, which I gratefully and humbly accept.
All the way home from school I try and go back in my brain to figure out how I dropped the ball? In my mind I run over my endless “to-do” lists. My heart begins to beat a little faster and I can feel the anxiety pulsing in my head.
Before I know it all the streetlights and headlights start swimming through my tear-filled eyes. They come slowly–the tears– just a quiet weeping as the exhaustion I’m feeling finally is released in a wet and soggy mess. As I’m blinking back the tears, because weeping and driving are not a good combination, I can feel the breath of a whisper in my soul.