I’m sitting on our semi-clean slipcovered sofa, and watching Ava stack my tissue tape into a perfectly shaped “cake.”  I glance around the living room, noticing one imperfection after another.

The magazines are haphazardly strewn, the throw pillows on the floor, there are stains on the rug.

Grayson just pinched Ava, and in turn she literally head-butted him.

I’m checking off the mental to-do list, and the “not quite complete” is greatly outweighing the “complete.”

Do I see a pile of wet paper towels in the floor?

I’m sick today, still recovering from the stomach plague bug that struck me at Haven, so I’m a little bummed we might not get to worship today with friends.

I am looking forward to doing our own church here with the kids.  I do love sharing that quiet, uninterrupted study with my sweet family.

As quickly as I am overcome with doubt, worry, & frustration, a still voice speaks.

perfectly imperfect

Live in the light.

Follow Me.

And from the still voice that is not my own, I am reminded.

Peace is mine again, and the last thing on my mind is the wet paper towels.

I get up off the couch, brush off my waning virus, and get myself dressed, happily donning the ponytail.  Worship lifts me up, and Grace is given to me, all that I need, just for today.

Glory to the God who can take the whiny, pity-full, self-absorbed version of me and shove her in the corner.  I can’t get enough of knowing I am not enough.

Luckily, for this imperfect gal, He is.

A Blessed Sunday to you and yours…

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