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I quickly kind of make the bed, my mind filled with the activities of the day.  The comforter is all crooked, and the pillows are not at their right places.  But it doesn’t matter, I’ll mess it up the minute I get back into it tonight.  Well, it kind of matters, but no so much.

Because realistically, in the grand scheme of things, who really cares whether my bed is well made or not?

 

It doesn’t matter; it’s good enough.

 

 

But sometimes, good enough is not good enough.  Like a good enough hug, or a good enough lesson planned, or a good enough foundation.  The hug just barely eased my conscience and the other person could see right through it and was made to feel unimportant.  And the lesson plan wasn’t thought-through enough; the kids went home without understanding and got in trouble for apparently not paying attention.   And the house foundation?  Well, it never withstood the test of the freezing weather, and it has a few big cracks in the middle.

 

 

 

Yet at the time, it really seemed plenty good enough.

 

 

So tonight, as I read about the atrocities going on in the world all around me, I wonder if my check is good enough. Or my prayer, or my indignation…

When is good enough good enough?  And when is it so very far from good enough?

linking up with Beholding Glory

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