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The Perfectly Imperfect Blog
Welcome to my little corner of the internet.
Here, I share the journey of life after loss—its challenges, its quiet triumphs, and the moments of rediscovered joy. I became a widow in 2016, and since then, my path has been one of resilience, healing, and learning to embrace a new kind of normal.
Through this blog, I hope to connect with others who are navigating similar experiences. Whether you're amid grief, seeking hope, or simply looking for a space where you feel understood, you're not alone. This is a place for support, shared stories, and gentle encouragement.
From processing sorrow to finding light again, and managing the everyday in between, thank you for being here and walking this path with me. -Kelli
Kelli Thomas
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Join date: Jul 25, 2018
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Aug 11, 2026 ∙ 4 min
The Beauty of an Unplanned Life
“Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been unexpected, unplanned by me.” – Carl Sandburg I used to believe that life would unfold according to my plans. Not perfectly, of course. I knew there would be bumps along the way. But I imagined a future that followed a familiar path—a path I could see, predict, and prepare for. I had dreams. I had expectations. I had a vision for how my story would go. And then life rewrote the script. Now I'm just out here winging it. If you've...
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Jul 20, 2026 ∙ 3 min
Chasing Joy After Loss: Learning to Live Fully Again
“Joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day.” — Henri Nouwen There was a time when joy found me effortlessly. It lived in ordinary moments—a phone call from someone I loved, laughter floating through the house, making plans for a future I thought would unfold exactly as I imagined. Back then, I wasn't chasing joy. It was simply woven into the fabric of my life. Then life happened. Loss happened. I find myself in a season I never expected to...
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Jun 23, 2026 ∙ 2 min
Praise & Worship
“Pleasure is found first in anticipation, later in memory.” - Anais Nin Some days my praise is quiet. So quiet it almost feels like nothing…until I sit with it long enough to hear it. It’s in the soft clink of my waist beads, barely kissing against my skin when I move. Not loud. Not performative. Just there. Like breath. I don’t rush it. I don’t force it to sound like anything holy. I just let it be what it is. And somehow… it becomes everything. The sound… it reminds me of honey slipping...
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