I Am Completely Unqualified to Write This Blog

I am completely unqualified to write this blog. Wildflowers and Progress.

So it turns out, I am completely unqualified to write this blog.

The Story

Typically, Ken and I wake up together, I read my Bible while Ken showers, then we read the Bible together before breakfast. It’s a nice little morning routine that we’ve come to enjoy.

But on the first day I was going to start working on this blog, inspired by books praising using mornings for passion projects, I woke up a bit earlier to work. I planned to work on the blog until Ken woke up, and then I’d transition into our typical morning routine. Ken accidentally foiled my plans, though, when he woke up earlier than I had expected him to. When he came into the office to say good morning, I was frustrated by my abbreviated work time. ThenI was annoyed with myself for getting frustrated, because obviously Ken wasn’t intending to mess up my morning plans that I hadn’t even told him about.

So, unsatisfied with the short time so far spent, I forwent reading my Bible in favor of continuing to work – which threw me a little off kilter. When Ken finished his shower and returned to the office to see if I was ready to read together, I suddenly remembered that I had planned to try a new breakfast recipe – but I had completely forgotten and, obviously, not started. Oh ya, and there was wet laundry in the washer that probably needed to be changed.

I felt out of control. It was only 7:30, and I had already gotten frustrated by a non-issue (Ken waking up a little early), was annoyed with being frustrated, felt behind on my blog (which was supposed to be fun), bypassed reading my Bible, and had forgotten to make breakfast. Clearly I was a bad wife, person, Christian, blogger, homemaker, etc. Right?

Wrong.

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Introducing: Wildflowers and Progress

Wildflowers and Progress IntroductionIf we’re being honest, I’ve been a little nervous about this first blog post for Wildflowers and Progress. If we’re being super honest, I’m a little nervous about ALL the blog posts. And it’s a prideful, unrealistic kind of nervousness. If this blog is written to give people hope that they and their lives don’t need to be perfect (which it is), then I’ll need to write about ways that I and my life aren’t perfect (which I’m/it’s not).

But here’s the internal struggle: I don’t want you to know that I and my life aren’t perfect!

Like I said, prideful and unrealistic, right? Because the fact of the matter is that you do know that I’m not perfect, especially if you’ve spent any time with me. That’s not intended to be a self-deprecating knock, it’s just the admittance that faults are not hard to find.

And here’s another fear: I don’t want you to know that I struggle with perfectionism.

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