perfection

I think I'm a perfectionist. You may look at my car, my house, my clothing, or even me and question whether or not it's so, and I completely understand why those doubts might enter your mind. Before now, even I had never seriously entertained the idea, but lately it's been pretty evident to me. In fact, I think my daughter was close to right when she declared, "Mom, we're perfectionists. We're just not very good at it." But I started thinking about it and I decided that perfectionism isn't necessarily in the execution of being perfect. It's in the desire to be perfect. Every 't' crossed. Every 'i' dotted. No mistakes. No gaffs. No stumbles. Nothing out of order. To have everything just so--and keep it that way. It's a tall order. It's an order that will burden down even the most sincere and energetic soul. It's an impossible task.

I started noticing myself being bothered by crooked couch cushions, books lying messily on a table, the towel in the bathroom hanging askew or a throw carelessly tossed on the chair. Now these are not a big deal to most people but the urge to keep them and other little things perfectly in order was running me ragged--and I don't run so much anymore. I couldn't sit down for even 15 minutes without seeing 'just one more' thing to pick up and put away immediately. One might assume that because I was jumping around picking up stuff that everything was neat all the time in our house but that isn't the case. The three of us are pretty messy people. I couldn't keep up with it all. The only reward was a tired and cranky woman who dared anyone to lay anything down in the house. Not exactly a recipe for a "Home, Sweet Home."

This quest for the perfect physical everything, no matter what it is, leads to feeling guilty and feeling like a failure. Ask me. I know. Truth is, guilt and failure are often my companions because there's ALWAYS something I didn't do perfectly. I never saw it before as clearly as I do now. I'm learning that I although I will never be errorless, gaffless, goofless, and totally on top of each minute area of my life, that it's OK. No one is totally 100% in every place in her life. We all have weaknesses and vulnerabilities and we all need room to breathe. I need room to be me.

When I set aside these futile efforts of frustration and rather seek a more perfect walk with the Father, then I am refreshed and not guilty. I will succeed and not fail. I could straighten cushions and towels for 10 years and all I'd have for my efforts would be raggedy cushions and towels because they will surely pass away, but if I use that same 10 years of time with Jesus to grow in grace and peace and trust in Him, He will not only bless me but He will use me to bless others. He's like that. He wants us to be perfect in Him.

Psalm 103:13 As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him; 14 for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust....17 But from everlasting to everlasting the LORD's love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children's children- 18 with those who keep his covenant and remember to obey his precepts.

I trust the Lord's righteousness. He made me. He knows my frame--my weaknesses, my frailties, of which there are many. He has compassion on me because of them. When I 'seek first' the Lord himself, He promises everything else I need will be added to me. Looking beyond the cushions, past the towels, around anything blocking our view to the Lord is true perfection.

Father, Thank you for your word which always directs me in the way I should go. I love you for your understanding and your patience with me in all my quirks and humanity. You're so good to me.

Suz