We're in our home. We're stable. We ain't going anywhere. I mean, I hate leaving the house to go to the grocery store. What if it burns down and we have to move again?
We've been saying for months that once we get to this point, we'll accomplish all kinds of things. We'll reduce the television intake for our kids. We'll get everyone on a solid schedule. We'll start figuring out my education. We'll do more one-on-one work with DeLaynie. I'll eat better. Yes, Utopia was waiting. It was simply a matter of getting into "the house".
Now we're here. The house is great. It's us (okay, me) that's the problem. Now I'm forced to face the fact that I'm not the person that I had hoped. I had hoped that over the year of craziness, I had become a different person, but it wasn't obvious because the situation was so hectic. I will admit that I am definitely slightly more organized, slightly more ambitious, and slightly more dedicated (which may shock those of you who know me now, but didn't know me a year ago). Somehow, I am just not ideal yet. You would think that a year would be plenty of time to become the perfect woman, but no. Still imperfect. Still in progress. Still addicted to chocolate.
Isn't it frustrating? Isn't it just too much? At what point do I get to arrive? When can I finally become the person that I dream of being? Apparently, not now. There's always joy in knowing that the Author of our faith is also the Finisher (Hebrews 12:2), and that the same One who began a good work will perfect it (Philippians 1:6), but it's going to take a while (like, the day of Christ Jesus).
Until then, I'll just work on being dependent on the One who can make me better. Better is good.