Maybe in an effort to fill vacancies, my hotel (on Bar Exam Eve & also host of the bar exam) thought they might attract more business if potential guests were unware that hundreds of future attorneys were lodging on the premises? "Let's go with the Funeral Directors."
First, I want to thank everyone who took the time to pray for me as I took the bar exam. You might not have any idea how much your faith and prayers may have helped me in a very difficult time.
ReplyDeleteThe Bible says, "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against... spiritual wickedness in high places." Eph. 6:12
I kind of chuckled when I saw the funeral director's convention welcome sign. I hoped it wasn't a bad omen. But little did I know how very difficult the next couple days would be. Plus the bar exam too.
As soon as I arrived in my room I got the chills and cranked the heat up. When I wasn't cold, I was a sweaty mess. The nagging soar throat I'd had for a couple days didn't help matters. From then on my symptoms gradually worsened. At Kenna's advice I began a regimen of Advil, Excedrin, and soar throat medication. That helped me physically survive round one of the Bar Exam.
But the fever, chills, sleeplessness, & nausea persisted and I found myself in the ER at 1:30 the next morning. Diagnosis: STREP. I asked for anything that wouldn't make me drowsy during the next round of testing. I opted for the double-barreled shot of Penicillin and Amoxicillin. That, plus a continued regimen of the painkillers already mentioned helped me physically survive round two of the bar exam.
As if bar exams aren't bad enough by themselves, I was physically miserable. My flesh and blood were weak. Under those conditions, doubt begins to creep in the solitutde.
But Kenna & I consider the incredibly horrible timing of such an affliction to be a physical manifestation of a spiritual battle. Satan would like nothing more than to see me fail personally and professionally as a believer in Jesus Christ. So your faith and prayers may have sustained me and kept me from giving up. I'm not sure how much my performance on the exam may have been affected by my illness, but I gave it all I had. If I pass, it's all glory to God.
There's no leftover bullets; let's just hope I fired enough straight shots to knock that bar exam dead--dead enough to need a funeral director.