Reprieve

My daughter and I were arguing before I snapped this photo. It was a signal to surrender (my words, not my parenting decision).

My husband often tells me I say too much in conflict with my teen. Once is enough, and I don’t need to explain myself. But I can’t resist the need to make clear my intentions for whatever decision I made that upset her. My need to explain myself in conflict has become a compulsion.

I tried, in this moment of fiery clouds out the window and my daughter having expressed her own irritation, I tried to take a moment and finding acceptance in my heart that she will just not understand why I said no.

And that’s ok.

It won’t dent our relationship forever. The sunset’s reprieve of closing yet another imperfect day offers hope in a chance for better, tomorrow.

And even when I flounder about, when I just can’t be better myself, there will always be beauty and peace just in reach, despite my failings.

And I choose to believe that the beauty is perfection condescending to heal a wretched heart—even in a moment.