It's happening again. Spring is hitting me full force in the face, and I am unprepared. If only I had a good plan ahead of time, I would have X, Y, & Z planted already and A, B, & C growing under the lights indoors. If only, If only...
I am cursed with a touch of perfectionism, and if it looks like I can't do it the way I envision, I get paralyzed for a while, until in desperation, I fling myself into it last moment, hoping to salvage my lost time. And usually, it turns out a little better than I anticipated.
I am trying to cast off my concept of perfection and wrap up in grace. It's so much more comfortable. It's so much more enjoyable.
Grace grows like a sprig of lettuce in the garden, coming up on its own, unexpected, offering unearned gifts.
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