brokenness is crying in the library, going to the bathroom to dry up, and crying on the walk home.

I was initially upset because of a class that is beyond my reach…I’m required to be vocal  (both online and in class) about tough issues…I don’t mind thinking about them, but I’m sort of penalized for not having well-developed positions on issues.  I was upset about a grade.

On my walk home I was upset because I am so preoccupied with a stinking grade.  Pride goes before the fall, right?  I thought I was over this stuff.  Getting upset about grades and the like.  Not so much, apparently.  There are things in this world I should be weeping for.  The lost being at the top of the list.  And I’m ready to crumple to the ground and sob about the injustice of a subjective grade?

I need a change.  And isn’t that what brokenness is about?

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