We bought an antique kitchen table this weekend. We had been using the one left from the previous owners of our house and while it was definitely functioning, it wasn’t what we really wanted. When we bought the table, it was outside in a tent on a hill. It seemed really sturdy and my woodworking husband checked it all over and it seemed all in check. We brought it home, set it up and we loved it. A couple hours later, I looked at it again and noticed the top had a bit of a lean to it. Not enough to spill food or anything, but enough to aggravate the perfectionist in me.
I looked at my husband and told him, this is my life. I long and strive daily for everything in my life to be level. I don’t want even the tiniest lean or tip. It stresses me out. But when I’m so focused on making everything level, I miss the beauty. Before I noticed this table was a bit out of whack I would walk into the kitchen and thing, wow! what a beautiful table and what great memories we are going to make on it. But after I looked at it again and noticed the lean, that is all I could see.
It’s all about my perspective. When I’m looking for all the things in my life that are crooked, that’s it; nothing but the crooked. But when I change my perspective; when “I lift up my eyes to the hills, I see my help” and the stress melts away. I begin to enjoy the lean.
Today, I am counting the blessings of my imperfection:
281. a leaning table
282. the walk to school this morning, remembering all the fun we had on our fall break
283. the space of a quiet morning
284. the $16 in my pocket and the $15.99 grocery bill
285. a full saturday with lots of memories
286. watching my son get pummeled in football, and then go back in again…oh his strength and courage and perseverance
287. waking up to a crazy bird outside our window who keeps chirping a nutty song
288. the blessing of an opportunity to write here and all the amazing, encouraging comments
289. hopping up from the dinner table to dance to a favorite song
290. reading a chapter, listening to a sermon, “hearing” the writing stirring in my heart and seeing God move all that together as one