Slowly recollecting just now, I realize that my whole day has been riddled in failed attempts. Not attempts for perfection; attempts toward the little things; every day ones; simple ones.
Like yesterday.
And last week.
And the one before that.
I walk through the dark hallway, reminded of the many things still undone.
A body that screams to be liberated from left-over baby weight.
Dishes that stare coldly from my kitchen sink.
The still-wakeful little girl who wants to play peek-a-boo instead of going to sleep.
And it all gets lost I the wave of grateful praise that comes silently over my soul.
How blessed to hear those sweet little noises from her room.
How amazed I am that to have a husband who accepts me and loves me - ever-true, no mater what.
So thankful to find my safe place in his heart.
How happy to be here in this little house that we've made home.
What grace, that I have family to dirty the dishes and stain the clothes and fingerprint the windows.
Over...
...and over
and over...
...and over
Until my my inner OCD is in jeopardy.
But this blessedness... This Grace... This favor that I've found....
...Totally irreplaceable...
My imperfection is overwhelmed in grace - in every way, all the time.
And that's a beautiful thought to carry me into tomorrow. One perfect reality that I hope to never forget.
"Tis Grace Hath Brought
Me Safe Thus Far
And Grace Will Lead Me Home."
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