I have been thinking a lot about progress. More specifically, how we are all in progress, all the time. My thoughts have been focusing on how to enjoy the progress as much as the product. I seem to be a person who wants to arrive at done once I notice. So instead, I am trying to recalibrate my definition of ‘done’. To find the beauty in the step by step and line upon line life we are called to live. To see the grace in the daily living, in the mistakes, in the learning, in the readjusting, and in the progress. And, most importantly, for me, to see the progress as the real living.
I have kept stumbling over the progress (big and small) throughout my day.
:: Ella read her first early reader phonics book to me yesterday. I almost cried. Cat/Hat/Pan/Fan/Bat/Mat. I tried to add ‘Can’ to the mix. She told me we were done for the day.
:: Learning to add a crocheted edge to the sweater I have had done for months and just haven’t had the motivation to learn how to add the border.
:: As I was cleaning up from lunch yesterday, the girls decided to clean up all of the morning’s toys without prompting. The Lincoln Logs, the books, the crayons, and the spelling letters. All of it. My words of praise went so much farther than any reminder, or pleading, I have given previously.
:: Cleaning out closets, and books, and DVDs and continually reminding myself I don’t want it if it is not useful or beautiful to our family (Thank you, William Morris).
:: That even in my moments of frustration, in losing it, I am able to seek forgiveness and ask for grace so that next time I may extend grace.
:: Praying that God would help me love the progress.