A quarter, 25 cents, .25 inches. It doesn't seem like much standing alone but when applied to something crucial it becomes so important. Yesterday I was made aware of how much .25 inches makes, say in a pair of jeans for instance. I put on my new jeans from my pre-christmas sale purchase. I own the same pair of jeans, same size, same company yet I suspect that whomever was making them was off from the pattern by a measly .25 inches or less. They fit very differently than my other pair.
The reason I say this is that they are just a little more snug than the first pair I purchased, just off by a hair. Enough off to trigger an all day bad mood that I could not pinpoint until I took them off late in the day. I barked at my guy for no reason and cursed traffic that was ordinary. Until the .25 inch thing came into mind. .25 inches makes you painfully aware of your muffin top, that you ate a second helping of homemade mac and cheese, or had a dessert 2 days in a row over the holidays, or perhaps even had a handful of M&M's when normally you would have not. It also reminds you you have not been on a walk in some time, or to a yoga class for months.
A quarter of an inch, say in your spine, makes things very different as well. Say when the muscles in your left side contract compensating for the surgery on the right and your leg is .25 inches shorter [or more] and throws your gait off just enough to cause pain. Say, like an ice pick in your left hip 24-7. That is something I deal with regularly these days.
A quarter of a second makes a lifetime of a difference when someone decides to run a red light because they are in a hurry holiday shopping. A good friend and client was hit on her sportbike a couple of weeks ago when a woman ran a light. She nearly bled to death during surgery where they put together her pelvis with metal plates. I would venture to say that a quarter of an inch [or less] makes a big difference when it involves your broken pelvis. That quarter of a second and quarter of an inch involves multiple surgeries, a couple of broken bones, and 3+ months in the hospital which is much more critical than my jeans and a lot less fun.
What's the point in all this? I don't know really. I guess to say there is a lot to be said for just a little. A little bit of time, a little bit of money, a little bit [or less] on your plate. God is really in the details and I hope you get to enjoy the little things this holiday season with your loved ones.