Waiting for Perfection

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Downstairs, on a thrifted couch, surrounded by children’s toys, listening to my husband play video games.

It’s not a seat in a perfectly-lit coffee shop window, surrounded by modern, minimalist decor, the smell of lattes and the sounds of strangers’ conversations wafting in the air. Its not in a dedicated office space at a tidy desk, looking at an inspiring vision board, with a meticulously organized bullet journal lying open. Its not even sitting in silence, a scented candle burning and endless quiet time stretching out before me.

It may not be any of those things, but this is where I’m writing tonight. This, with some variation on amount of mess and noise level, is where most of my life takes place. I’m often tempted to wait for the elusive, perfect moment to sit down and create, the one where everything is clean and the heavens open floodgates of inspiration and there aren’t any dirty dishes upstairs in the sink.

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Isn’t that what I should be doing? When I scroll through Instagram or read other blogs, I read about rising early (before the kids, obviously), setting the essential oil diffusers, sitting down in an already-clean house, enjoying a steaming cup of coffee with my devotions before getting a little work done. Or something like that, usually accompanied by beautifully edited pictures taken on an expensive camera. And I think that i just need to watch for one of those moments to drop out of the sky, forgetting the work it takes to create them.

How much time do I waste, waiting for perfection? I so often put things, especially writing, off because I’m searching for that place of peaceful confidence, where I don’t worry that what I have to offer is not enough. And its not just writing, I do it with social interactions, getting dressed, cooking, exercising, insert-life-activity-here. Then, when I’m finished, I naturally nit-pick whatever I just did till I’m exhausted and never want to try again.

Something tells me I’m not alone in this. I’ve heard enough people apologize for the state of their house or put off those plans or talk about what they would do, if only. We’re all sitting, noses pressed to the glass, hoping for the magic to finally occur without realizing that it’s all around us. We yearn to be good enough and miss the fact that God does His best work in us as we are right now, flawed and needy.

What if we all decided to leave perfection in our dust and do the good things, the hard things, the imperfect things? How much more could we all accomplish?

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