Hot Tea

This soggy and gray Sunday brought another lesson in humility and God's delightful interference: in my haste to enjoy the spicy delight Chai offers, I burned my tongue on the hot (some would say viciously scalding) tea. Unfortunately, as I had made the tea myself, I had no one to sue for not warning me that my hot beverage was hot.

My impatience often seems to result in small injuries and minor maladies. Beyond the searing pain in my mouth and esophagus, the red-faced choking that ensued caused the cool self-absorbed Starbucks-sipping scoffers around me to raise their eyebrows with disdain. Perhaps a few wondered what other simple bodily functions I struggle to carry out on a day-to-day basis.

Even the most sardonic muser would be surprised.

Most of the beating my body has taken has been a result of my own idiocy; while I managed to acquire only minor injuries during the five years I played soccer, simple tacks such a descending staircases have produced more serious afflictions.

For example, when my drawing teacher introduced linoleum printing I felt the familiar sinking feeling of dread. Zinc prints I'd conquered: my plastic prints were passable. These two projects had require only large needles; conversely, cutting out linoleum calls for very sharp curved blades. My instructor announced that anyone who cut themselves significantly twice would be declared a danger to himself and others and banned from the project. Ideal, just what I need: to be forced to turn in an unfinished piece when my grade is already slipping. Lately my dear teacher and I had failed to see eye-to-eye on trifling issues such as layout and content.

To my credit, I did manage to get through two rounds of prints sans significant bleeding. This changed during finals. I had a little over four hours to finish two to three more cuts and my AP World History exam weighing on my mind. I was also having difficulty remembering the most basic of polyatomic ions (Did sulfate have a plus two charge or was that was sulfite? No, they're both negative, like carbonate...will this even be on the final? It wasn't, by the way)
With one pressure and another, it's really not so surprising that I managed to gash myself twice within half and hour, earning myself two trips to the nurse, endless sniggers of my classmates, and the rare privilege of wiping my own blood off of the surrounding desk and floor. Let's not mention the bulky bandage that impeded my scholastic pursuits for several days.

All in all, I've decided that God has an innate knack for using my own clumsiness to bring attention to my sin: perhaps I was thinking a little too well of myself prior to the tea spluttering incident- and isn't worrying about my studies a sin? The burns on my tongue and lips knocked me down off my high horse and my finger injury forced my to cut back my study hours a little. Having an out to not finish the printing project turned out to be a blessing- and I still received and A in the class.