Life piled upon life—that’s what we’ve got around
here. This post brought to you courtesy
of Imp who is home sick today.
I walk
around and look at this place and I am overwhelmed—prolific artwork and scraps
of artwork taped to improbable places in the apartment, or better yet random
balls of tape stuck to the floor, piles of dirty dishes waiting to be washed
and piles of clean clothes waiting to be folded. Our
own room (which I have unaffectionately labeled the catch-all) is a
mixture of dim light, odds and ends that have no other place to call home, piles
of books and papers, and all the projects I try and fail to find bonus time in
the day to finish. Needless to say, I spend
as little time as possible in our room—because it drives me bonkers.
I have learned so much about the impossibility of
perfection and acceptance of limitations within me and around me. Most importantly, life here is a constant
education on letting go of my expectations and clinging only to God. And as much as I’d love to have a place for
everything, and everything in its place, life rolls on--and I can either
struggle to keep it defined and neat, and be constantly frustrated; or I can
accept with joy each day as it’s given to me, and accomplish those things that
God has given me the grace to accomplish for that day.
Today, I choose the latter.
