I am not a writer as much as I am a reader. The written word has the power to transport, to temporarily displace, to move earth and time. Oh how I love the idealic universe of a book. But I don’t live in a book. I live in the here and now, which can sometimes weigh a person down. I am a real person with real thoughts, real hurts, real situations, true joys and true pain. Due to my desire to live in an idealic world I often look at my world through perfectionistic eyes. Desiring the best of me and hoping everyone else will too. There is no room for compromise, no room for “slip-ups” and no re-do’s. Do it right the first time with excellence. High expectations mean a longer and harder fall. Why do I put myself through it? Human nature; a desire to not be found wanting, maybe even the difficulty in accepting unconditional love. Honestly, how long can one person keep up that pace without succumbing to the weight of imperfection? Not long. Pushing, striving, attaining and failing only to find that all along all I had to do was trust.
Trust, for me, has always come easy. I am gullible and quick to believe in people (some of my close friends know this well and use it to their advantage in tricking me). On the more serious side, I have been hurt many times in my life just because I didn’t want think someone was truly that devious or selfish. I have held on to friends longer than I should have. I pushed away those who showed potential to hurt. It is because of these life experiences that I now find myself more hesitant to make new friends, becoming more introverted the older I get. I have become my own worst enemy. Condemning myself for “human” errors and becoming more introverted in order that I would not disappoint anyone else. Maybe it was the hurt that pushed me more toward perfection. Not wanting to hurt others as they hurt me. Not wanting to accept that I am just as selfish, at times, as they were. Each hurt became a brick, a layer, a wall pinning me in as I strove to create my own idealic universe. A preacher once said, “If you find the perfect church and join it, it won’t be perfect anymore.” If I create my safe perfect world and all that is left in it is me, guess what? It’s NOT perfect.
So how do I move past the flaw of perfection? Jesus. I’m currently reading a book called, “Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World” by Joanna Weaver. In just the few chapters I have read it has become clear that I am Martha (Luke 10). I am the one who will open my home at the drop of a hat. Upon entering my house I will make sure sheets are clean, the most comforting foods are cooked and that you want for nothing. However, what you will not get is me sitting and enjoying a conversation. A wall? Perhaps. Perfection? Most definitely. In reading the story of Mary and Martha, in Luke 10, Martha is fussing about fixing a dinner for her guests while her sister sits by and does nothing (my perspective). Vs 40 says Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. Were these preparations REALLY needed? The Bible says that Mary chose the “greater thing.” It was to sit and listen to Jesus, commune with Him, get to know Him. It is in my time with Him that I learn to be content with who I am. It is also in those times I realize what gifts/talents I have been blessed with and that it is okay to use them in relationship with others. It is in those quiet times that bricks of hurt are removed and crushed, nevermore to return. It is in those moments that I know that my world will never be perfect but my Savior is.
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