Who Cares About Finals?

This week is my last fall semester taking finals at my University. A lot of emotions go with that statement. I’m afraid of failing, of not doing as well as I normally do on my finals. That fear is compounded by my desire to get into a top MFA program next fall. I’m also afraid of what getting into a top MFA program means for my life as I know it now.

A year ago I was studying to take my comprehensive finals. Big deal. Strangely, though, I didn’t care. I studied hard but I wasn’t stressed. Today I was so stressed about my final in an undergrad class that I slept for two hours rather than study.

I always have this lingering fear that no matter what I do, it won’t be good enough. If I get a B, it’s not good enough. If I get a job after I graduate, it won’t be good enough. If I get into grad school, it won’t be good enough. Underneath all those cobwebs is the fear that I’m not good enough.

Good enough for what? I don’t really know. I guess I would call it “worth.” And even though I know my worth is not found in my grades, or my job, or my level of education, some days it’s just downright hard to believe the truth: that I’m not good enough, but God is. Today was one of those days.

I would have disappointed Rory and Lorelai Gilmore today. I did “fail” my finals, and I did not look pretty doing it. But as I was reminded by two of my best friends, coffee and laughter will make any bad day better.

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