Failure

I've always been a dreamer. I daydream ALL THE TIME. I invent magical things in my brain and play out ridiculous fantasies in my head. For example, I would love to be able to fly to the dining commons instead of trudging up that hill, and I have spent many a tiresome walk imagining myself gliding over the trees. Also, part of me secretly wants to be Taylor Swift in all her beautiful, awkward, pop-star glory, and I've always dreamed of being a Disney princess (specifically Rapunzel, 'cause, let's be real, Flynn Rider is a hunk).

Obviously, not all of my dreams are that crazy; I have realistic dreams, too. Well, I guess they're more like life goals. These are just a few of the things I thought of off the top of my head that I hope to accomplish while I'm in college. I want to:

have good grades.
overcome my anxiety.
have a toned body and the strength and health that go with it.
be hardworking and able to balance all that I do.
be confident.
be social and to be well liked by everyone.
have fun.

Here's where this post gets too real. So far in college, I'm not living up to my standards.

To start, I have good grades as defined by the average college student, but not by me. I consider a good grade to be an A. Actually, the grades I strive for are 98% and higher. I have A's, but they are low A's. Actually, I might have a B in Spanish, and I truly hate it. I am so smart, but my professors don't know because I slack off and my study habits are terrible.

On Tuesday, it was my turn to read a scripture and pray in Spanish. My professor skipped over it without even considering that I might have it, which I did, because she just assumed I wasn't prepared. I raised my hand and told her I was ready and she was surprised. That hurt me. It cut deep. We also had a test right after that, and I had studied so hard to be completely prepared for it because I desperately wanted to prove to her that I was smarter and more hardworking than what she thought I was. However, I was so anxious because of her attitude toward me, combined with my horrible issues with public speaking and trying to recover from the anxiety of reading my scripture, my anxiety took over. I basically blanked on the test. All of the knowledge I had studied so diligently for disappeared, and I probably did very poorly. Then, I went to my next class and got a reading quiz back. I got a 56% because I didn't read, and, well, it was absolutely the grade I deserved. Then, that same day, I was supposed to turn in an essay that we had been given weeks to write, but I had struggled so bad with this essay and with anxiety and had put it off to study for Spanish, that I had to ask the professor for a small extension. When I did turn the essay in later that night, I still was not pleased with it. I was too upset to hang out with anyone.

It was just one shortcoming after another, after another... I didn't get good grades. I was not able to overcome my anxiety. I didn't work out all week because I was trying to focus on my school work. I didn't work hard enough and I wasn't able to balance all that I do. I was not confident in my essay or in myself in general. I wasn't social. I did not have any fun.

It was a horrible reality check for me: I suck. I am a failure.

I mean, what am I doing? I am so much better than this. I am capable of so much more. I am an incredibly intelligent, diligent, strong person. I shouldn't be in a position where I'm trying to prove anything to my Spanish professor; she should just know how great I am because I should have been consistently showing her how great I am. But I haven't been.

Rather than having doubts about God this week, my doubt was in myself.

With all this weighing on me, I did what any sensible person would do: I cried-- A lot. At some point during this period of mourning, I found myself at Wednesday night worship, a place where I hadn't been in several weeks. I stood in the dark at the back of the room, filled by the sound of everyone singing praises to God. I tried to sing, but it was so hard because I was crying hysterically about how much of a failure I was.

The songs we were singing all kept talking about his unfailing love. The word "Unfailing" really stood out to me because it is the opposite of failing, which is what I was doing. Slowly, my tears began to subside. Although we didn't sing it that night, it made me think of the song, Oceans by Hillsong United.

"Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will by my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You're never failed and you won't start now

So I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine"

While I fail, God never fails. I keep trying to search for the answers within myself, but I should be looking to God. He will guide me so that I can be in a place where I'm walking on water instead of drowning in my failure.

When I did look to God, I realized the truth. If I was a failure, I would have kept living without trying to achieve anything. If I was a failure, I wouldn't have taken responsibly for my actions. If I was a failure, I wouldn't have used my experiences of the past week as an opportunity to learn and grow as a person.

Now, with a new-found determination and my soul resting in His embrace, I know that things will be okay for the rest of the semester. I am not a failure.