I wasn’t sure I wanted to write this, but it was the only plot that came to mind–and I believe there is a reason for that.
“6:00 A.M. Guitar music. Her alarm rings out loud and clear. She has another chance to get it right—for the millionth time. She stumbles out of bed to swipe the alarm off on her phone. No, she goes back to bed! Of course, she’s tired: she only slept six hours. But sacrifice is necessary.
“8:00 A.M. She opens her eyes. Sunlight dances across the shades. With a bound and a leap, she shoots out of bed. Yes, it is way late. In forty-five minutes she has class—and she still hasn’t finished her assignments. No devotions. She quickly opens her laptop and works on completing those assignments. One minute before it is due she submits the document and slides into class a couple seconds late.
“10:15 A.M. Now, she can start right—and go practice piano, right away. But, no, she chooses to scroll through social media and look up old movies. Of course, she wants a break after the rush—but this way, the cycle will go on.
“12:00 P.M. She freaks out realizing how late it is. Time is flying, and she has hardly done any school at all—in fact, she is behind in most her assignments. Piano practice, but only for an hour—no time to study another half-hour.
“1:00 P.M. Lunch! Oh, she takes her science book up to lunch. Maybe she’ll read as she eats. No, it just sprawls on the counter, completely and absolutely ignored as she scans her blog and looks up other random items on YouTube.
“3:00 P.M. Math. Distractions. Science. More distractions. She’ll never get all that she must do done before 10:00 P.M…. which is curfew hour supposedly.
“6:00 P.M. She must read more than fifty pages, watch several lectures, write a couple paragraphs, and work on her essay. Can she do all this before 10:00 P.M.? No.
“12:00 A.M. She got most of it done—but the little extra that is left, she’ll have to complete tomorrow, because her brain shut down. That means, if she doesn’t buckle down and resist all distractions, she will completely and totally fail. She has enough to do without more work. She’s praying, sad and angry at herself—knowing she has failed for the millionth time. She’s pretty much given up, Lord,” the angel reported.
“I will give her one more chance,” He said and gazed down at her, the tears trailing down His cheeks.
* * * * *
I don’t pretend to know exactly how the Lord reacts to my daily failures. Yet, maybe if I can imagine the pain my weakness causes Him, some gear will shift in my head to succeed, once and for all. To sacrifice for the Greatest Good.