Tonight Ty and I went out on a date. It wasn't a perfect date, but it was fun. Tonight is actually Night #2 for Lainey spending the night at her Grandma's house. Night #1 was so we could celebrate the end of the school year, and Night #2 was because we failed so miserably celebrating that I felt we needed to give it another go.
That's what our life is about. Failing and trying again. Our life isn't perfect. Yes, we have a gorgeous two year old. We have a great home. We have a fun marriage with memories and photos to back it. But still, it isn't perfect. Our daughter throws tantrums. She hits and occasionally bites. She's even smeared poop all over her room instead of taking a nap. Our home has a dent in the wall from me throwing a cell phone. It has a broken dead bolt. Light fixtures are out. The dream back yard is still that - just a dream. My husband and I argue. We bicker. We bring out the worst in each other. So no, life is not perfect.
Is any life perfect?
I don't often often post on facebook or instagram or here on my blog about the imperfections - the reality - of life. And not many people do, do they? (I only speak for myself now: my personal reason for not sharing the poop-smeared walls and tear-filled arguments with the world wide web is out of respect for constituents that do not have a say in what I share or who I share with. I would feel horribly for my daughter if she were to get online and find posts or comments to make her feel less valued than she deserves. Or, for my husband, to feel ridiculed or embarrassed by me or his marriage to me.)
I love reading the blogs by those who are REAL honest. Transparent. Don't you? Thanks to you authors. Thanks for being brave. And thanks for being real.
But, regarding those of us more scared and reserved, if you are wondering or speculating that our lives might be perfect...the answer is NO.
Please, know and believe, that no life is perfect. No woman feels like she is rocking that swimsuit right before she starts her period. No mother feels she is raising her child perfectly. No wife feels like she is entirely meeting her man's needs. It's just not possible.
Why can I speak about this in such absolutes? We are human and we are in need of Grace. If I were the perfect woman, the perfect mother, the perfect wife, I would not need God's grace. And I firmly believe everyone - ev. er. y. one - needs grace. We need it from God.
And we need it from ourselves. Give it to yourself! Forgive yourself for losing your temper. Forgive yourself for that laundry pile that's been there since last week. Forgive yourself for letting your child fuss so you could shave your legs. Forgive yourself.
And try to be content. Be content with the mess and the mayhem and the imperfections. You are not alone in them. And please remember that, even if facebook and instagram and blogger and twitter and anything else tell you differently, you are not alone in your struggles.
Tonight, by the end of our Try-Again date, Ty and I were looking at pictures of our daughter and talking about how much we missed her. We laughed about her stubborn personality and speculated the trouble she would get herself into this week.
Nope. Life is definitely not perfect. But it's what we have.
That's what our life is about. Failing and trying again. Our life isn't perfect. Yes, we have a gorgeous two year old. We have a great home. We have a fun marriage with memories and photos to back it. But still, it isn't perfect. Our daughter throws tantrums. She hits and occasionally bites. She's even smeared poop all over her room instead of taking a nap. Our home has a dent in the wall from me throwing a cell phone. It has a broken dead bolt. Light fixtures are out. The dream back yard is still that - just a dream. My husband and I argue. We bicker. We bring out the worst in each other. So no, life is not perfect.
Is any life perfect?
I don't often often post on facebook or instagram or here on my blog about the imperfections - the reality - of life. And not many people do, do they? (I only speak for myself now: my personal reason for not sharing the poop-smeared walls and tear-filled arguments with the world wide web is out of respect for constituents that do not have a say in what I share or who I share with. I would feel horribly for my daughter if she were to get online and find posts or comments to make her feel less valued than she deserves. Or, for my husband, to feel ridiculed or embarrassed by me or his marriage to me.)
I love reading the blogs by those who are REAL honest. Transparent. Don't you? Thanks to you authors. Thanks for being brave. And thanks for being real.
But, regarding those of us more scared and reserved, if you are wondering or speculating that our lives might be perfect...the answer is NO.
Please, know and believe, that no life is perfect. No woman feels like she is rocking that swimsuit right before she starts her period. No mother feels she is raising her child perfectly. No wife feels like she is entirely meeting her man's needs. It's just not possible.
Why can I speak about this in such absolutes? We are human and we are in need of Grace. If I were the perfect woman, the perfect mother, the perfect wife, I would not need God's grace. And I firmly believe everyone - ev. er. y. one - needs grace. We need it from God.
And we need it from ourselves. Give it to yourself! Forgive yourself for losing your temper. Forgive yourself for that laundry pile that's been there since last week. Forgive yourself for letting your child fuss so you could shave your legs. Forgive yourself.
And try to be content. Be content with the mess and the mayhem and the imperfections. You are not alone in them. And please remember that, even if facebook and instagram and blogger and twitter and anything else tell you differently, you are not alone in your struggles.
Tonight, by the end of our Try-Again date, Ty and I were looking at pictures of our daughter and talking about how much we missed her. We laughed about her stubborn personality and speculated the trouble she would get herself into this week.
Nope. Life is definitely not perfect. But it's what we have.
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