Grace upon grace

I’m at the Ranch this week; it’s spring break. I’m working here through Thursday, then I’ll head back south to the Apostle in Exile’s house and the Diocese of San Joaquin special convention.

I had a paper due yesterday, in an online class that I’d fallen off the bus in, participation-wise. I was decent, barely, until I got sick—then was behind in so much, I couldn’t organize myself well enough to catch up. I worked all day and finished it, turning it in just under the wire. This is after tech trouble had sent me into town, in search of wireless access so I could e-mail the instructor, in an absolute breathless panic. He wrote back, giving me grace—and this is one place where I absolutely didn’t deserve it. (He doesn’t tolerate late work, ever, and I knew that—and respect him for it. Again, I haven’t been participating in this class for awhile, so he’d have had no idea that I was on top of anything.)

Paper’s done, and in, and I think I’ve learned some things about the value of my own work. About respecting myself enough to do said work, to begin with—and to do it well. About not panicking, and about forgiving myself. About trusting other people to be gracious.

And I didn’t fall apart completely, even once.

It’s been a good experience. A learning experience, that I actually did learn from. I’ve been in panicky places in academia, at least once a term since I’ve been here. I think, finally, I don’t need to go there anymore. I think I got what I’ve been needing, from this.

This may have something to do with the God-time (kairos, seriously) I’ve been in for about the past week. A conversation last Tuesday had some deep effects on me. It may be me (gasp!) growing up. What I know is that I’m together, in a place where I desperately wasn’t.

Alleluia!

(And yes, my feet STILL hurt from trampling death. I hope they do, for a long time.)