Less Than Perfect

Every morning the house hunk makes breakfast. Most mornings it's just fine. Occasionally, the toast is a bit crunchy or the eggs are a tad underdone. Once in a while the bacon is...overdone. But most days, it all comes together. That's life.

Recently read a book by Nora Roberts. The hero was babysitting for the heroine's little boys. Dinner involved a food fight with spaghetti and meatballs. Tears and spaghetti sauce were involved in a big way. I fell in love with the hero when he calmly pointed out that "things happened" on "Man Night" and they would all fix it together.

Burnt bacon and spaghetti sauce on the floor are normal parts of life. Cars that don't start on the day of the big interview, clothing malfunctions, spiders in the shower, and aching joints in the morning are little bumps in the road. I've had more than a few bumps, detours, potholes and outright plunges down the sides of mountains. How we face such difficulties determines what kind of life we have.

A young woman I know faced many, many terrible problems. She kept on keeping on, but she also spent a lot of time grumbling and moaning "why me?" And then she had a life threatening illness. Suddenly, she discovered life was precious--difficult or not. It's still hard, very, very hard. But she found the alternative was even harder.

I figure all the less than perfect things that come along just make life interesting. Without them, we would never appreciate those days when the sun shines, the flowers bloom and our children tell us they love us. We wouldn't understand the true joy in holding our grandchild the first time or holding hands with the one we love. We wouldn't enjoy a simple rainbow after the storm. And that would be a shame because then life would truly be less than perfect.

anny