perfect

i put so much pressure on myself to have these posts that make perfect sense, have words eloquently woven together and yet when i stop and think about that concept i realize that is not me. that's not who i am . i am not full of perfect sense, quite honestly i have never wanted to be. perfect is boring, perfect means you have no where else to go, nothing more to learn. perfect means the grooves of my heart have nothing to be filled with and that is a kind of void i am not willing to live with. i am a collage of thousands of magazine cut outs and fabric and thread and buttons and all sorts of notions. i am pages and pages of pinterest ideas that are half done. i am ok with that. that is how i want to live. its so much more beautiful on this side.

and in saying that i am a believer in perfect moments. like the first time i saw st mark's square in venice and i had an audible gasp and i had a moment that realized that it was a culmination of all that i had prayed for my entire life. i was in romania...married...spending days with orphans...sitting in fields making daisy chains, burrowing as many snacks as possible in my bag so even if just for that day they weren't hungry when they went to bed. i was LIVING. i was doing what i was designed to do. venice represented the end to me...one of the most beautiful things i have ever seen represented the heaven i am striving for. and in that moment i was at complete peace to stand before God. i was doing exactly what he created me to do. i am a fan of that kind of perfect.