If I hadn't been up by 7 this morning, I would not have had nearly two whole hours of peace and quiet before the kids got up. I would not have had a short devotion and some space to think about it. I would not have had an unrushed shower, and I wouldn't have had time to slip a sweet, fresh-raspberry-strewn bread pudding into the oven -- made with my own homemade bread and eggs from my chickens. My morning chores would still be undone, and I wouldn't be relaxing here, in my room, with the windows and blinds thrown open, the sunshine streaming in over the green lawn and flower garden, and the birds exuberantly singing just outside.
I live in the lap of luxury, and I would have missed it if I hadn't been up on time.
Ideally, I'd be up well before seven, I'd be up before the sun. 5am or so. I know many, many admirable people who consider 7am an indulgent sleep-in.
So I could deal with the ideal, or I could deal with the real. By this stage in my life, I am beginning to know the difference, and I'm learning that perfectionistic attitudes get people stuck in a pit, sooner or later. So let's talk about what is real, and what is enjoyable, and live the best life in the best way for each of us. Blessings!
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