Balance

Saturday brought good news; today brought bad news.

On Saturday, I learned that I will be home during spring break for Telly's town walk! When I left her this summer, I thought I would never see her again. I scarcely dared hope she would make it through three months of training. Indeed, she has, and the letter inviting us to Morristown to see her and meet her instructor carried no bad news. I can't begin to express how much this means to me. I cried for joy when I heard this good news.

Puppy raising has given me a lot of disappointments. Whenever I write about my experiences from puppy raising, I mention how it has taught me how to handle disappointment and discouragement. But now, facing another disappointment which I will share, I wonder that's really true. Do I say it because it sounds good, and I think it should be true?

From the beginning of the year, I've been interested in being a deke. Dekes are the sophomores who give tours and host visiting high school students outside of connection weekends. The time to apply for the position finally came a few weeks ago. I put a lot of time and thought into my application. I honestly think it would be a job that I would be good at. Unfortunately only six girls can be dekes, three from Fischer and three from Smith. Twenty-four women applied - six from Smith and the rest from Fischer, where I live. The six from Smith will automatically get interviews, but only six from Fischer will. Alas, I was not one of those girls.

I know the odds weren't in so good, but that hardly lessons the blow since I wanted this position so much. I know that not receiving the interview means that being a deke isn't what God wants for me next year. This is a comfort, but should it stop me from being disappointed? Right now I'm being stoical. Is that really better? And, of course, it's a struggle when I hear of other girls I know who got interviews not to think, "Why her and not me?". It's no great nepenthe that they say they'll keep my application on file.

I'm tired and the weather is ugly, so I thought of the last few verses of anther Joe Bayly poem:

I feel sorry for myself
and I've plenty of reason to.
Maybe I ought to say
I'm on top of it,
praise the Lord,
things are great;
but they're not.
Tonight
it's all
gray slush.