I was sitting somewhere last night and a thought struck me. It was a thought about the perfect and my perfect. Because those aren't the same.
Some years ago I had my perfect. It wasn't perfect for anyone else...I'm pretty sure most people wouldn't have been as happy with what what going on in my life (I mean hello? Who wants this?) but it was my version of perfect. I was so happy.
Fast forward a year or two and I had the perfect. It was picturesque. Doing above average in school, taking summer classes and working. Killing it in lacrosse. Return missionary boyfriend who I read conference talks with every week. Wonderful friends. Going to wedding showers and baby showers for those friends. It wasn't bad. I enjoyed myself and I was mostly happy with my life and friends and whatnot. But it wasn't my perfect. I thought it was what I wanted out of life and in some ways it was...but in the most important ways it was just the perfect and not my perfect.
My point is that the perfect, the ideal is not and could never be my perfect, my ideal. Mine is usually a much more difficult road than the perfect.
And that is why I am strong.
