Being choosy.

I went to a wedding tonight where everything seemed to go perfectly.  Perfect setting, perfect weather, perfect dress, perfect french silk pie for dessert, perfect flowers…  The only thing that went wrong visibly was that the mic wasn’t consistently working.

I haven’t decided if I want a perfect wedding.  And that’s fine, since I’m not getting married any time in the near future. (Don’t worry – if I was planning on it, you would know by now)  Not that I would ask for anything to go wrong, but we all know it does, and a lot of the time the imperfections are what makes the wedding just right.

So, that being said, I’d like to choose what goes wrong.  Not just at my wedding, but at college orientation, at choir auditions, with my roommate, with my job.  I’d like to pick.  Wedding-wise, the only thing that I’m okay with going wrong seems to be the flowers…  I’ve thought it through.  The dress?  Obviously no wardrobe malfunctions are allowed.  The groom?  Heck no!  The weather? Well, I have been told in no uncertain terms that having an outdoor wedding is out of the question, so maybe the weather can be less than ideal.  The flowers?  Flowers are some of my favorite parts of creation (especially Gerbera daises and peach roses, just fyi), but in excess at a time of pollination, they make me sneeze.  So if someone forgets to order flowers or something and that’s the only thing that goes wrong, I will be a happy girl.

Just like if only minor things go wrong from this moment forward in my life, I would be happy with that.

Well, I guess I might not be.  Maybe it’s the big thing that go wrong – every now and then – the times when I have to wait, the inconveniences, the painful times, the losses, that keep my perspective healthy.  That the little things are little.  That when I have a slightly annoying cold or am tired it’s small potatoes (where did that saying even come from?  brownie points to whoever knows).  So perhaps, if only small things went wrong, I wouldn’t know just how blessed I am.

I’d like to know just how blessed I am.  And since I just remembered that I’m not all-wise, all-knowing, or anything else with “all” in it, I think I will give up my choosing rights.  (Like I ever had them)  I think I’d rather have God run that.

This is the conclusion I draw at the end of many a post, but it’s one that is good to re-visit.  And one that forget as often as I write about it.  Maybe you do too.

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