After breakfast and a quick round of cards, a game we call Charlie Brown Poker, Ally and I started painting. We spent all day Saturday painting the ceiling of The Ugly Room, the room where the water disaster lately occurred. All day I spent up and down the ladder, painting 12 foot ceilings. I was paint splattered and sore when we were done. Aren't they beautiful words though? We were done.
Then we began reorganizing furniture, dragging shelves here and there. We had to call in reinforcement to move the piano across the floor. We called in The Minions to carry all the books down the stairs and stack them on the table. Ally and I started filling the shelves.
Then we rested (it was Sunday).
Today after dental appointments I was back in the ugly room, organizing, and finding space for all those books and science kits and phonics sets. We carefully tallied how many notebooks each student would need this year, and labeled them, then lined them up on the shelf. After five hours (why do we have so much stuff?) we were left with just a few, maybe four, things I couldn't figure out where to place.
My mom called. In a weary, grumbling voice I responded to her enthusiasm over a job nearly completed. Because after all that work, I was discouraged. I love to be organized, but the process saps me dry. I prayed for help in creating a beautiful home, and for a heart that would shine beautifully in the midst of it. I asked God for perseverance and a few good ideas. Then in the end I am discontent, because it's not perfect, because when I post the pictures tomorrow the room won't wow you.
My mom just laughed and told me to let go of that perfectionism. Then she laughed again, knowing she's hardly one to talk. That's always the struggle, excellence versus perfectionism. The struggle between being a diligent, hard working homemaker, and someone who nitpicks too many details. I know I should let go, but if I do, where do I grab the rope again?