All or Nothing... or Something

There was a time in my life when, if I couldn’t do it perfectly, I wouldn’t do it all.

I can’t afford that luxury anymore.

Over the last few years, my life has gotten significantly more complicated. Complication, in the sense I mean, is a mixed bag. One of my sons is now married to a delightful woman, and they have become parents to my beloved grandson. My other son is seriously involved with a precious girlfriend, whom I hand-picked for him (that’s a whole ’nother story – just take my word for it).

I strive to spend individual time with all four of my children, be they related by blood or simply a bond of love. And it goes without saying, I snap up any chance to cuddle my grandbaby. All these things take time, every second of which is cherished and well spent.

Complication of the most delicious kind.

I'm much less enamored of the time I need to spend caring for my less than perfect body. Mind you, my earthly vessel has never even approached perfection, but as each year passes, fewer and fewer functions, ahem, function  perfectly. This corporeal lack of cooperation has resulted in a resentment-worthy number of hours being given over to doctoring of one sort or another.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m healthier than many of my peers and take almost no medication. I haven’t been diagnosed with any untreatable illnesses or conditions. It’s just that the mileage on this body is racking up, and the wear and tear on certain rebellious parts has mandated things like exercise regimes that are supposed to be done on a daily basis.

Yeah, right.

Complication I could do without.

And then there are helpful and interesting complications like a Bible-based financial class some caring folks invested in for me. Really, they invested in me, realizing I’m not the worst money manager who ever walked the earth, but believing I could benefit from some time-proven strategies to shore up my future. The class requires a time commitment of one evening a week, as well as homework that promises to change my life.

Complication of the most thoughtful kind.

True confessions: I started this article several weeks, maybe even a month ago, and life has gotten in the way of my finishing it. More true confessions: my all or nothing tendencies have also interrupted its flow. For instance, the aforementioned financial class suggests a variety of time-tested strategies to clean up one’s money messes. Since (thankfully) I don’t have too many such messes to address, I’ve been focusing more on the wealth-building suggestions, such as making money wherever possible and investing heavily. Oh, and keeping and sticking to a budget (something I’ve tried unsuccessfully to tackle over the years, but would love to get the hang of).

I have to admit, I’ve had to step back and remember that, while this class may be gifting me with tools to improve my fiduciary life, Rome wasn’t built in a day. I will never be able to “do” this money thing perfectly, but I can glean ideas that make sense, and put applicable ones into practice over time. Christ took three years to complete His earthly ministry, and His Father has taken 56 years to bring me to where I am today – which is struggling but striving on a daily basis to be more like Him.

So, why do I expect myself to nail this whole course in a few weeks?

Similarly, my exercise routine has had to be curtailed. I simply can’t keep up with each and every suggested remedy for ailing limbs each and every day. I admit it. Twenty-four hours just isn’t enough time to accomplish perfection in this area. Nevertheless, I try to do some exercises regularly. Well, perhaps frequently is more accurate. 

Sometimes not giving up, not tossing the baby out with the bath water, just has to be good enough.

Something is better than nothing.

One other note: if this post seems less “polished” than others I’ve written, that’s because I’m feeling led this morning – Thanksgiving morning – to finish it and put it out there for you, my readers. I’ll have a houseful of family expecting to chow down in a few hours, so perfection of every word and phrase is out of the question. Dinner, I hasten to add, will not be served in a perfectly clean house (far from it), nor will it be displayed on a perfectly arranged table. And I guarantee you, the fare will be a far cry from perfect. My hope, though, is that we will all eat in a serene setting with a (relatively) sane hostess.

That will have to be good enough.

But a faithful friend asked this morning about my writing, and I had to admit it’s been stagnant lately. Not for want of ideas or interest, but for lack of time and energy. Meanwhile, this half-finished piece has been sitting on a flash drive, patiently waiting for its author to practice what she preaches.

Herein lies my imperfect but heartfelt attempt to do just that.

In closing, I invite you to check out the Thanksgiving Proclamations issued by our forefathers, George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, both of whom understood the concept of perseverance in the face of opposition and imperfection, and Who it is that enables flawed humanity to keep on trying.

God bless us, everyone!