On Perfection

Today I read this wonderful post on my sister's blog. (Shameless plug, I know, but if you read it, you will be glad you did.) She lists five reasons why you are a good enough parent. You. Me. All of us.  It made me laugh, nod heartily in agreement, cry, and then laugh some more. It got me thinking about our obsessions with perfection (both individually and as a society) and how hard we are on ourselves when we don't achieve what we imagine to be perfection: a perfect life, the perfect home, perfect hair, a perfect body, perfect talents, (insert insecurities here.) You name it, we wish we had it, or did it, or looked it, and when we realize, or remember that we don't, somehow we see ourselves as deficient, perhaps even undeserving of love, or a wonderful life.

So, I say to us:

Stop.

Stop now.

Because yes, the Lord asks us to be perfect, but not to set us up for failure. Not so that we can look in the mirror and scrutinize every sag, wrinkle, and stretch mark. Not so that we glance around our messy, or small, or undecorated homes and shudder with embarrassment. Not so that when we consider our child-rearing missteps we declare ourselves the worst parents in the world. In fact, I'm pretty certain that most of the things that we obsess about are things that really don't matter at all in the scheme of things. I've never read one scripture deriding crumbs on kitchen counters, or choosing a bad paint color, or cellulite. (But maybe there's one out there, in which case I'm in BIG trouble.)

No, the reason He asks us to be perfect is because He wants us to try. He wants us to try hard. To have a good life. To be kind. To reach out to others. To love without judgment. To help someone in need. To support and sustain. And He wants us to remember that we need help, that we cannot do the things that He has asked us to do without Him being part of the deal, without allowing Him to be the partner He has promised us He will be if we let Him.

There will be bad days, where there are dishes in the sink and crumbs on the floor, and something that smells bad in the fridge that we don't have time to root out and toss. There will be days when the Patient Parent we would love to be takes a backseat to CrazyRantingLunatic Mommy or Daddy. Days when we watch too much TV, or don't answer the phone, or aren't there for a friend. There will be days when we are so sad, or anxious, or tired, that we are certain we will not be able to function at all.

And that's okay.

Because each moment, each day, we are granted another chance. And even if we can't do better right then, or even in the next moment, there will always be another second and minute and hour after that for us to keep trying.

So, I say, carry on. Know that you do amazing things. Know that you are loved, that you fulfill a unique role that can never be replaced.

(Spencerkins, who cannot walk perfectly in high heels but loves himself and keeps trying anyway.)

And, well, if none of that helps you, then think of this: reaching for perfection and falling short sure seems a whole lot better than attempting mediocrity and missing entirely.

Boy, do we fall short. But that's just fine.