In 2003, my father passed away unexpectedly. My brother and I cleaned out his house and only kept things that were important to us. I found a little handwritten book that I gave to my dad as a gift when I was 11. I drew the pictures, even created my own publishing house, just to make it extra nice. I tucked it into my box, shaking my head at the sweet girl.
Recently, I found it buried on my bookshelf and knew I had to share it with readers. I could share my first book by recording my first video.
But then, my hair really needed to be dyed again. There's too many grays showing through.
Oh. Look at my reading chair covered in laundry. Speaking of which, my favorite shirt needs to be washed.
My hubby/videographer is really busy and this could wait until he is on a break from school. Well, not this one. Maybe the next one.
That's when I recognized it. Perfectionism was once again standing in my way. I did the one thing that I've found to beat perfectionism. Do it anyway, regardless.
So I woke up on Saturday, threw the clothes in a basket, donned a pretty shirt and asked my middle girl to record me reading my first published story. We had to do it twice. I'm sitting really weird. Is my voice that high? I messed up some of the words. And the pictures are too light to share on camera. It is over 30 years old, colored in crayon or colored pencil.
You know what else? My daughter has told people repeatedly that she recorded it. We laugh about the whole experience. I learned something new about recording a video to post on social media. So very worth it.
And once again, my perfectionism lost and God counts this as a victory.
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