Perfection . . . one's life can appear so. 

But everyone's life has a little trouble in it somewhere. Every day. Even Jesus told us there would be, "every day has trouble of its own."

There really isn't a life out there anywhere that does not know trouble.

It is when a difficult moment stretches into a whole day, that stretches into a whole month, season, year . . . life can be excruciating. We've had some of those. Long ones.

I made meatballs for lunch yesterday, I had to go to work before they were out of the oven. The aroma, I'm sure persuaded our neighbors to climb the stairs to our front door. They didn't come, but I'm sure they wanted to. I was so hungry for them, but meatballs will not be hurried.

Scotty took them out of the oven and had them for lunch. "I didn't like the meatballs," he says before I've even slipped out of my coat after working eight hours, 1-9 shift. "I like the old recipe better. I had to cover them in bbq sauce."

The sauce did not have a cup and a half of brown sugar in it. He wants this food without sugar thing  . . . but he doesn't. It is one of our conflicts. Getting the eating right.

It is an area of our lives unaffected by perfection.

We grow here. We love beyond imperfection. 

I know it's small. There are bigger things in my life, but I will spare you the grief. The bigger things are not between Scotty and I right  now, but there are some hard things. Today is very gray and my heart feels gray, too. Some days are like that. 

I just warmed up the meatballs and had my first taste of the new recipe. Yum! I was starving. That always helps. We might have to get used to this recipe.It might take some time and some fasting in between meals.

I hope that you are having a wonderful day . . . full of rays and warmth, if only on the inside. Love!