I thought: funny how all it takes, sometimes, is opening the right door. I guess I'd known that all along, having watched Ed McMahon present sweepstakes many-a-time, on tv. Still, I'm unlucky enough as to choose, regularly, a Cracker Jacks box with no prize. I just didn't figure I'd be one to ever open the right door.
(Note: "The Rose" is playing in my head as I type this: "When the night has been too lonely / And the road has been too long / And you think that love is only / For the lucky and the strong...")
But then, one day, I did: I opened the right door. One might suppose that such an experience would make me more confident regarding outcomes, but--I'll be honest--it hasn't much helped. Instead of feeling like a lucky person, I feel like an unlucky person who opened the right door on one highly-unlikely, once-in-a-lifetime occasion.
So I remind myself what the preachers say about how there's no such thing as luck. I remind myself: nothing is impossible with God. I pray and tell Him I feel like I'm at the end of my rope, and He knows better than anyone: I'm one of little upper-body strength and ought not be on a rope at all, ever. I ask Him to give me a little hope in my rope. And He does. He always does.
Linking with Emily for the relaunch of Imperfect Prose.
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