Present Over Perfect

the driveway in our decidedly suburban neighborhood. But
more often than not, in the first few moments out of bed, at
the very least, I open the front door, and I breathe in the
fresh air. For many months of the year, it’s achingly cold,
and I slam the door almost immediately, cursing and
shivering. But I love the reminder that there is a whole wild
world out there, animals and trees and moon. I try to breathe
a few deep breaths of that bitter cold air, hopping from foot
to foot, wind cutting through my flannel pajamas. I think
about God and creation and all the wild and wonderful
things that he’s made, that he’s making. I feel small, and I
feel a part of it all, and I feel thankful, more than ever, for
another day.