Perfect

I'm guilty of never resting. There is a fine line between too little and too much, and I crossed it years ago. Everyone around me knows it, too. All I ever wanted was to be perfect -- and I saw activity as the way to become perfect. The more you do, the better you must be . . . it made sense.

I always want more hours in a day. On the one day of the year when I get it, the day when Daylight Savings Time takes place and the whole world changes the clocks back one hour, I ought to take that hour and run with it. Sixty more minutes. It's a gift.

This year, I'm going to rest. I'm taking that extra hour, that gift, and using it. I'm using it wisely -- not to change the world, but to change myself. And I have to learn that it's perfectly okay.


"Be still and know that I am God . . ." - Psalm 46:10

Clean

After all the chaos of Homecoming is finally over, one of my roommates and I cleaned. It was so therapeutic. I brought down the big vacuum from the third floor, the one that cleans as well as clatters. All the glitter, the ravelled ends of paper, the dust, the thread, the hair . . . vanished, just like that.

Beautiful. Taken for granted. Beautiful.