I love Sundays, a day of rest and reflection filled with quiet moments and sleeping dogs. I woke up this morning just exhausted, my body aching from a week of hard work and yet suffering from a severe lack of sleep the night before. I stumbled out of bed as the rays of sunshine spilled through the blinds, welcoming me to a new day.
One thing led to another and the next thing I knew it was 5:00 p.m. and I had not had one sip of water. The previous 6 days I had been drinking at least a gallon of water each day. My body was literally going into shock as my head began to pound and my body began to demand answers. I felt like a plant withering in the sun of the desert. Desperate for a pick-me-up, I threw down a Diet Coke and had some chocolate pecans, perhaps one too many chocolate pecans.
Here it is just moments before bed and the ending of the day. And it is the truth of today that hurts and causes me to reflect even more deeply than I prefer to, at least on a Sunday. I only finished half of my gallon today, so my daily goal of drinking one gallon a day was not fulfilled. I ate enough chocolate pecans to realize, there is no joy or peace or satisfaction in the most desired of foods. It was not the best of days and yet, I am beginning to learn the best of lessons. My failure is not the ending of a journey, but merely the beginning. As Henry Ford once said, "Failure is the only opportunity to begin again more intelligently."
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