You go around and around the mountain to drive up to the top.
As you drive to the top, the view will sometimes look the same as it did before. But when the view and the drive feel familiar, you will actually be much higher than you were before.
The metaphor also works with a cinnamon bun.
Today, after receiving my fourth rejection of the week — this time, for something I desired ferociously — I showered. And in the shower, I sang praises. Loud praises. And I laughed.
Then I sent a $350 money order to a small literary organization in New York to study with some Asian American writers for three days in June. I've invested tens of thousands of dollars (and hours) into this passion. There's no backing out now.
But I need a new game plan.
What I mean by that is: Dear sovereign Creator God, if you would be gracious enough to turn your good face toward an irreverent, mouthy girl like me, the world will not hear the end of it. Please, if you will, I need the game plan.
Yes. I need
Earlier tonight, as I bowed goodbye to my grandparents' guests (whom I hadn't spoken to all evening), one man turned to me and said, "Congratulations." I'm not sure what he was congratulating me for.
But I'll take it. Surely a good omen.
