Pondering Perfection

Hey there! I was just sitting here reflecting on some journal entries I’ve written. I have a five-year journal with a luxe navy leather cover from Levenger. I love this journal, partly because the cover is the perfect shade of navy blue. Each dated page has room for the year and five lines of text—just enough space for a few scribbles on random topics.

I don’t write in it every night, and it will probably take me longer than five years to fill it up, but it’s there when I want to jot down a quick prayer, vent when someone ruffles my feathers, or write down thoughts and observations from the day. Sometimes, like tonight, I sit in bed and look back over what I’ve written. I like seeing my growth in how I react to problems, or simply remembering the silliness of a particular day.

Like on May 14, 2022, when I learned the hard way that dried arbol chiles should only be roasted in a well-ventilated space. The fumes nearly choked everyone in the house. The cookbook author mentioned this little tidbit in the front matter of the book—which I didn’t read until after my mistake. Or there’s February 27, 2023, when I prayed for morning to come and bring with it the joy promised in Psalm 30:5. That was a hard time for me, and it seemed like the struggling would never end, but morning did come, and I learned to find joy even in circumstances that were not overtly joyful.

Taken together, these entries hold both laughter and longing. They allow me to see where I’ve come from, helping me better appreciate where I am now.