I Choose Slow

This was a beautiful weekend to enjoy the changes of the season. Saturday never reached 70 degrees, while Sunday was full of sunshine and a high of 77.  

Weekends like this make me want to slow down, sit back, and take a good, long look at what a great life God has given me.

This is what slow really looks like in our home because we have a to do list that is 12 acres long. 

Slow looks like windows without curtains because after years of searching, I can't find the right ones.

It looks like a half sanded hope chest because there is always an ongoing project.

It looks like a laundry room with both machines waiting to be emptied.

It looks like a bathroom with a dirty tub,  cluttered vanity and nail polish stains on the floor.

Slow means taking time to appreciate where we live. Right across the street from God's house.

It means relaxing and watching TV in the midst of the undone.

It means delicious burgers on the grill while the dog desperately hopes a piece falls to the ground.

It means taking joy in the little wins... like finally taking the time to paint the closet.

It means allowing myself to be okay with all the clutter that is on the desk, or untouched ugly stuff at the bottom of the list.

Slow is a choice. You choose to be okay with the imperfection now, because you understand that  things will change in the future. Choosing slow isn't giving up or backing down, it’s usually not being lazy, maybe intentionally slowing down is an act of hope, rest and trust.

My house and life aren't perfect. They never have been and they never will be, it’s more obvious now than ever. I get to choose what I do with that. I can drive myself insane frantically trying to hide and fix the imperfections. Or I can take my time and enjoy the processes.
Today, I choose slow.