It's Better to Show Up Late, Than Not at All...

I hate being late.  Being late drudges up old feelings of imperfection, that I have long battled.  It causes all of my What ifs to rise to the surface and show their toxic faces.

What if someone notices?     What if I'm not good enough?     What if someone did it better?    What if I just had it 'together' like everyone else?    What if I didn't screw it up this time?   What if I just showed up on time??

Today was one of those days when I found myself in an internal dialogue about how I was late, and had missed my chance...again.

All summer, I have longed to visit the cutest little u-pick flower patch and pick myself some flowers. Not flowers for anyone else, flowers just for me.  I had driven past the darling hand-painted sign over and over, and for one reason or another decided to put it off until the next time, because I didn't need flowers.

Today, I realized that the next time(s) were dwindling as autumn is quickly ushering in colder weather.

Today, I decided that it was time for me to follow the signs.

Instead of turning right off of the highway, I turned left.

I put all fear of being too late aside, and stepped into the most lovely, whimsical flower patch.

Signs of autumn were all around.  Some flowers had died, leaves crunched below our feet and the air had the slightest chill, but in the midst of it all, I found the most beautiful flowers, and they made my heart sing.

I have learned lately, that it is better to show up late than not at all.

I wonder what it would look like if I decided to show up to my life in all of the areas that I thought I was too late?

Mailing the thank you cards that have been sitting on my counter for months.  Apologizing for wrongs that have long passed.  Making a phone call that made more sense to make three weeks earlier.  Sitting with someone who is hurting, and has been hurting for awhile. Bringing a meal to someone who had a baby 6 months ago. Realizing mistakes and fixing them, even if it doesn't affect the outcome.

What if showing up late brought even more beauty than showing up on time?