I know this body is fit enough for heaven’s use so I accept the healing and heck with the insanity of the struggle for perfection.
The perfection can wait for death’s warrant for that’s when humanness cease to be the rapture of life’s fray. Even then my work on earth cannot cease to be because my manure will be the best stuff that daffodils delight on.
I am just glad God gave me the wisdom to know the difference what is true and what’s ludicrous and for a sense of humour and infectious laughter to help ease the healing of the scabs left from dwelling too much on what cannot harm my spirit. Now I can relate to the Psalmist “God has turned my crying into laughing and set my feet a dancing in a new style and fashion.”
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