I’m always waiting for the perfect setting to begin writing again. It usually has something to do with a warm cup of coffee, sleeping children, and inspiration flowing through my mind and fingers. As it turns out, I rarely have any of these things. Or rather, I have them, just sporadically through out my day and night. Never at the same time.
But lately I’ve been working and praying towards training myself to not need to have the perfect conditions for life, but rather utilizing the time I do have. This morning, I’ve been up early, the littles have meandered down the stairs slowly, and are happily eating their breakfast, playing with puppies, and watching cartoons before the day really begins. My coffee might be cold, and the littles awake, and nothing is really urgently on my mind to get out, but I’m going to take what I can get.
So here’s to renewed goals of imperfection. To not expecting life to provide me the most ideal situations. To happily accepting what is what it is. And to my cold cup of coffee. Thank God for abilities to reheat.