Imperfectly Awesome

Yes, the H is crooked.

I have been writing this journal entry in my mind for months now.

Each time I look at this "H" on top of our wall unit hanging to one side I think to myself, "I should fix that."  And then I don't.

I am amazed at myself.  In awe really.  It's like I don't know myself anymore.  Just a few short years ago, I would have had to fix this immediately.  Over time, I have discovered something.  This H is telling a story.  The story of a family.  My family.

A possibly over-scheduled, hard working, service giving, homework doing, scout focusing, sports playing, dance performing, achievement minded, prayer offering, college bound, missionary loving, flawed family that likes to lay on the couch whenever possible and laugh together.  A family that use to clean on Saturdays and rarely does anymore.  A family with a messy garage, a mountain of laundry, a dirty car, breakfast dishes in the sink among other places, and frazzled parents that glaze over at the first sign of an unscheduled block of time.  It reminds me of all that is good in my life.  I sometimes feel, lately, that my messes that I can't seem to get to, I should wear like a badge.  They represent the things that I did instead.

Instead of cleaning out the garage the last 10 years, we have raised a family.  A family that can tolerate a messy garage, but a family, none the less.  And I think they are imperfectly awesome. Down to every last flaw.