Present Over Perfect

and subtle beauty, instead of the volume of my life being so
screechingly loud only fireworks could get my attention.
I feel prouder of my smaller, simpler, quieter, more
connected life than I ever did when all of life was screaming
along. I thought I would feel a deep gladness if I broke my
back for my work. I broke my back for my work, and all I
felt was back-breaking pain. That rush of love never did
come, until now. Until I realized that the love I was looking
for all along is never found in the hustle. You can’t prove it
or earn it or compete for it. You can just make space for it,
listen for it, travel all the way down to the depth of your
soul, into the rhythmic beating of your very own heart,
where the very spirit of God has made his home, and that’s
where you’ll find it.
You’ll find it in the faces of the people who’ve known
you all your life, who sit around your table every week, the
children whose noses you kiss while they’re sleeping.
You’ll find it in prayer, when you sit in silence sensing the
presence of Christ resurrected.
Mac, our four-year-old, is the snuggliest, most
affectionate little person on earth. And when he wants a hug
or a kiss, he’ll fling out his arms and bellow, “Bring in the
love!” in a deep voice, like a radio deejay. And then when
you scoop him up, he pats you over and over on the back
with his little hands and says, “There it is. There’s the love.
There’s the love.”
Here it is. Here’s the love. Here’s the love: it’s in
marriage and parenting. It’s in family and friends. It’s in