GREATER GLORY... Greater Glory... Greater glory... greater glory...

That's been the mantra in my head today. God has greater glory for me. This is the way it should be. He wants me on a different path.

I didn't get the RA position. The one I've thought about since November of Freshman year, the one I planned my last two years of college around, the one I thought of creative door tags for, the one I was so sure I was going to receive... The one.

Maybe I was too confident, thinking because I'm outgoing and cheerful, how could they not hire me? To dump gasoline on this bed of already blazing coals, I received a voice message from my friend saying that she was disappointed she didn't become an RA in her first choice dorm.

It's OK.

I know this is God's will for me. All I have to do is stay on this path and follow him. How hard could that be? I never lose when I play Follow the Leader. As the day went on, God's will for me just kept getting shoved further and further back. I couldn't keep myself from questioning Why and replaying the things I could have done differently to prevent the rejection. At the times I caught myself replaying those events, I realized how pathetic I had become. Not getting this job wasn't the end of the world. In fact, it was very far from it, maybe it was even the beginning of something so much more AMAZING.

I thought I had finally reconciled with the fact and I stopped checking my email every half hour hoping that I would open it to find an apology from the housing board attached to my belated job offer (pathetic, isn't it?). Until I got the nightly call from the parentals. After I received the news, I called my mom. So by the time her call rolled around at 9ish, I expected the two of them to have an in-depth analysis.
Mom: Your dad and I talked about this, and we knew they would pick [your friend] over you.
Me: (thanks for the support guys.)
Me: uh-huh.
Mom: They picked her because she's bigger than you. (Dad in background: She's much sturdier.) You're too skinny and small. What did you have for dinner? Are you gaining weight?
Me: What? No... come on. That's not true! Size has nothing to do with it!
Mom: Well, that's what your dad and I think... Have you decided on housing for next year? Maybe you can stay with [your friend]
Me: I don't know. I- (sneaky lump in throat forming)
Mom: You don't want to stay with her? I think she's so good and down-to-earth. She doesn't have any bad habits, even though she has a boyfriend-
Me: Uh, I was thinking about my friend's apartment- (lump rapidly rising up throat)
Mom: It's much safer at school.
Me: Can we not talk about this tonight? I don't want to talk about it right now. (head down on desk, wet droplets dripping out of eye ducts.) Let's just pray.

I thought I was going to be able to suck it up. There was no way I was going to cry because of this. I held strong the entire day and I wasn't about to crack. No way. Maybe it's the estrogen in me, but every time that lump forms, nothing can keep it from climbing up my throat. And as it climbs, it accelerates. Then all of a sudden, it vanishes. But by then the salty liquid have already made their way out onto the surface, leaving me no time to wipe them away inconspicuously.

So after I hung up the phone, I just sat at my desk, arms bent, face on forearm, waiting for my face to air dry. Even though there wasn't much to dry, I took that time for what it was: time. Time passing, me resting, not thinking about anything at all. For the first time that day, I wasn't agonizing over the would, coulda, shoulda's. For the first time that day, I wasn't refreshing my inbox. For the first time that day, I wasn't hoping for a different result. Head on desk, I was comfortable. God had let me wallow all day, and now, it was time to stop.

I will praise you forever for what you have done; in your name I will hope, for your name is good...
Psalm 52:9