Dry

I have a plant in my office at work that I'm supposed to water once a week. I forget a lot. The soil is often bone dry to the touch. 

Today I looked at my little plant and noticed - it's growing. I have no idea how that's possible under the deplorable conditions it's forced to endure, but sure enough, its stretching up. There are a few discolored leaves but for the most part, it looks ok.

I feel a lot like my plant today. From the outside looking in there are probably a few signs that I'm barely making it - bags under my eyes, hair all over my head, a weary smile. If I'm honest, I'm dry too. 

And even though I find myself here, parched and tired and barely making it, I have to acknowledge that somehow (the grace of God), I'm growing. I'm stretching up toward the sun like my persistent plant. Even on my worst day, I'm making it.