You know those days where it's like your life is a series of unfortunate events. Those days when you can't win for losing. Those days when you can literally see the dark cloud looming directly over your head following you everywhere you go. Recently, I was hit with one of these ever-not-so-fabulous days, but it was exactly the day I needed.

I woke up feeling as though my world was already falling apart- I had gotten into a huge fight with my friends, woke up late and as sick as ever, ran to class with a hat on my head and no shower, only to sit there and be the girl that coughed the entire time.

Got out of class to realize I had lost the shoes I promised to a friend, and needed to clean my room for company on the weekend, all within an hours time.

I knew that day would not be my day. After it was finally all done I rushed home so fast that I completely and totally forgot to get gas. The thought never even crossed my mind, until I was halfway down the high way, 20 miles from the nearest gas station on either side and realized my gas light had been on for who knows how long.

So I have a small confession to make- I have run out of gas once before. (When the gas light comes on in the '01 Lexus it means you needed gas two days ago, there is no 50-mile warning).

Not my brightest moment, and I could not afford a repeat, especially not in the middle of the road to Oxford on a Friday afternoon with all of my family at work and a photo shoot I needed to get to. So, as soon as that gas light caught my eyes, the tears began to flow.

The funniest thing was I was not just sad about the events of the recent days, I was not just exhausted and not feeling well, I was mad and mad at literally everyone but myself.

I've learned that for whatever reason when things aren't going my way I am typically the last person on my list to blame. I was mad at the way my friends had acted. I had convinced myself my mother made me lose the shoes.

I was mad that I had been sick for a week, although I hadn't gone to the doctor to a thing about it. And I was mostly mad that I was about to be stranded on the side of the road with no gas, as though that could be anyone's fault but my own.

Driving through my tears of anger, I hadn't gone more than a mile when I heard the words "you're a good father, it's who you are," and my crying was changed. It was all going to be okay, and I cried from shame.

I had spent so much time being been so mad not just that day, but for the past several days, weeks, months, years, over all of the little things, I could not perfectly control. Over all of my shortcomings, because life would always be better if I could just...... Over all of the wrongs of others, because it was not fair that..... Over all the hiccups of life, because I couldn't possibly be expected to be happy when..... I had spent so much time being mad, that I had forgotten none of it ever mattered, and none of it ever would.

The song playing through the speaker was the only thing that possibly could: "You're a good father, it's who you are, it's you are, it's you who are, and I'm loved by you, it's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am...You are perfect in all of your ways."

I played that song on shuffle, and by the pure grace of God, made it to the nearest gas station just in time.

Even more, I made it home and got to do what I love with the people I love- getting to photograph and support my family and friends doing what they love to do - and in all the smiles that followed that day, I knew He is perfect in all of His ways, even on my worst of days.