progress makes imperfect

We flopped our bags down after the plane trip home onto floors that went squish squish.

Unseasonable flooding had left our grass green, our bed and carpet ruined, and our walls soaked while we were enjoying the California sunshine.

Mr. Fantastic looked at me and said, “It’s always something with this house.”.

He was right.

I looked at him and said I thought I would probably cry tonight at some point.

But I didn’t.

The long list of projects got longer that night, and we began the clean-up with the help of some amazing friends.

There is something to this mess, though. When life runs amuck and friends come running, you remember that you are not alone even when the walls tumble down.

When your exhausted husband looks at you at the end of a stressful day with eyes full of love and gratitude for who you are, you remember that peace comes in many messy packages.

Progress is made one tiny step at a time, but all the imperfection and mess never really subside. It is the joy we find in the stepping that makes the work worth our while.

It will take a week for our walls to dry out. While I wait for that, I am painting the front door a beachy blue and remembering the beauty we enjoyed last week.

Somewhere, in the middle of all this imperfection, God’s light is shining, my heart is singing its own song of joy, and everything seems to be just as it is meant to be.