So, the funniest thing has happened.
I was all excited and nervous to get this blog started. It’s been on my heart all year, so when I finally got the guts up to hit “publish”, it felt like a huge accomplishment.
And then I sat. And wondered.
And sat some more. Two weeks more.
And wondered what I should write about, now that I’m all official and all. I’ve been calling it “writer’s block” which is totally laughable, seeing that I’m not a writer, but just now, as I was pulling into the Target parking lot, I realized what it was.
I lust after perfection. Knowing in my head that perfection is an illusion, it doesn’t matter. I still crave it, run after it, and try to grab hold of it.
But it’s like trying to hold water...it just all runs out. Life circumstances, my kids’ attitudes, my husband’s reactions, it all runs out of my cupped hands that are desperately trying to hold it, make it be a certain way and shape and volume.
If my college roommate were reading this right now, she’d be laughing her head off. My life doesn’t reflect perfection, and our dorm room was living proof of that. I don’t color-code my closet, I’m not naturally organized, I don’t have a spotless home. And those are all things you’d expect from a perfectionist, right?
But there’s this other kind of perfectionist...the kind that thinks, “If I can’t do it perfectly, I’m not gonna do it at all.” My dear friend calls it closet perfectionism. That would be me. So I’m scared to death to keep writing, because what if it’s not...perfect?
At the end of the day, perfectionism is just another form of insecurity. I don’t want to be imperfect, because then I’ve failed, and if I fail, then people will know that I’m not perfect, and might actually see through my masks, and what if they don’t like what they see?
What if it’s too much disclosure about myself? Maybe I should let them keep thinking I’ve got it all together.
What if they don’t like me? Maybe I shouldn't rock the boat quite so much.
And then the voice of the Lord speaks...
Patient, not perfect. Loving, not perfect. Kind, not perfect. Gracious, not perfect.
He just wants my praise...he just wants me.
All of us.
God doesn’t expect perfection...He just wants my heart.
He wants my life to reflect Him...in the ways I love, serve, and pour out grace.
So I’m posting this, just to get it off my chest, and to hopefully slay some of the perfection dragon in myself.
And because I am weary of not being known.
So to my teeny, tiny little community of readers, please know that my posts here won’t be perfect...they won’t always be wonderfully written. But they will be straight from my heart.
And, hopefully, from His.