I'll say from the outset of this post that I don't want sympathy.

Randy is my brother's name. He is 20 years old, he owns a nice BMW, has a beautiful girlfriend, a good job, and few worries. Well, I'll let him speak for himself on that. He's got time, money, and now he's embarrassed.

Byran is my name. I'm 21 years old, have a decent, though deteriorating, '95 Thunderbird, no girlfriend, and many school-related stresses. I'm taking 16 credits, and working 9-12 hours a week. I'm tired most of the time, and I don't have hardly any of it.

My, my, my, let's all pity Byran. Naw, don't. I'm living for the weekend this week, but it will be worth it. It is worth it, what I'm doing, all the little hardships that I stress out about.

God is here, with me. He wants me here. I have more divine appointments than I do anything with. (Like today, I don't get angry very often, but this conversation was testing me sorely; I wanted to study, but instead had a conversation, in which my co-conversor said conspiratorial things about American government and wrong things about the Bible) Even though it's 10:39 p.m. and I'm still at school and I have 35 minutes to drive home only to go to bed and come back here at 8 a.m., God's with me. Yep, that's sure, He's with me, and Saturday's coming, and after that Sunday, and then Memorial day.

I can't wait.