Turns Out, I’m Not Perfect Either.

I’m sitting here in my writing space.

It’s in my bedroom. I share it with my husband. Today there are some things left undone.

Normally these things really agitate me if they are left unattended and I am sitting here trying to write. The bed isn’t made and the baskets of clean laundry are still not put away.

And I am ok with this.

It will get done. Just not before other things.

Some of you may be thinking snarky thoughts like “Oh gasp! Her bed isn’t made it’s the end of the world! Cry me a river… You have no clue what my bedroom looks like.”

That’s ok. I’m well aware there are all types of people, and it’s a good thing there are.

My word of the year for 2020 is Imperfection.

It’s not that I believe Imperfection needs help coming to fruition or that I think Imperfection is something I want. I think the Lord wants to teach and show me it’s something I need to accept and be alright with. It’s something I need to come to grips with and mellow out about. And that it’s something that I need to make strides in so that I can forgive more easily and get rid of the idea (ahem) that I’ve got everything pulled together.

My oldest daughter just gave me a little tiny novelty pin. It’s the shape of a pill and says “Chill Pill” on it.

What is she trying to say?

Probably that I get a little to stressed out about details that don’t line up, schedules that don’t seem to mix with others and the trails of clothing that snake throughout the house that hopefully leads to the perpetrator!

I guess I get way to un-done about the armies of dirty socks that are lying around the place with their good buddies the empty cereal bowls, sting cheese wrappers, and half drank water cups. And, um…I am not sure what the remedy is for towels getting left on the floor by certain people who shall not be named, but if someone has that one figured out, let me in on it.

Seriously, “mess” messes with me in an unhealthy way, and it needs to stop.

I am naturally a clean freak. But like all traits, things can get out of hand. The slobs need help curbing their snobbiness, and the neat freaks need help not going off the deep end with anxiety. Luckily, the Lord has given me a family of people to live with to help me curb it. They give me little pins that say “chill pill” so I have a visual reminder to simmer on down. They all pitch in and help clean up the place when the time rolls around to do it. They are coming around to understand that mom’s love language is service. Cause I tell them. Just in case you didn’t know it yet, kids don’t automatically know these details about people, you have to teach them! I’m not shy about telling them why they are offending me.

We people that give off the illusion that we have it all together; don’t.
Not at all.

We are just better at hiding it. I still think things that I shouldn’t bake things that don’t turn out and trip over painted lines the same as you do. I might lead you to believe that my trip was actually a lyrical dance I was developing. Tsk tsk…

Just like I need to learn that touch is ok, (In which I have previously written about) I can learn that my world is not going to explode if there’s something out of place.

Having problems with accepting Imperfection doesn’t just show up in material form, it also comes with people’s actions and mouths. Like when your husband screws up, or your teen son gets a tub of whipping cream instead of a fluid carton of whipping cream.

Or Your 12-year-old sends text messages that might ruin another kids surprise birthday party.

There are episodes in a parent’s life that cause you to want to crawl under the chairs and cease to exist in that present time.

I know. I’ve been under the chair a few times. (There are all sorts of colors of chewed gum wads stuck to the bottom of them, as well as made in china stickers.

Unfortunately thinking I could disappear didn’t materialize.

There are moments that someone does something terribly hurtful or doesn’t do something they should have, and we can add that to the list.

All things and people that are in my atmosphere can lead to some form of disruption, frustration and a general unhappiness. All of these things are under my umbrella of perception and under my control of how much I will let it affect me.

And once the perceived Imperfection shows up, now, forgiveness must show up. Accompanied by grace, love and thankfulness.

I can be thankful the boy went to the store for me. I can be thankful that I was able to remedy the situation for next time and teach him the difference between the types of whipping cream. Eh, I’m not going to die without the usual prepared morning coffee. And if it means that much to me, I have a car and can go fix it myself. Or, I can have the boy get the right thing next time he is out.

I can apologize to the husband who had no clue what I wanted him to do or get and realize it’s completely unfair for him to know that without me saying. I mean seriously, we make jokes all the time about wanting people to read our minds.

Nope, that is officially a very bad idea. Let’s just work on our responsibility in relaying what we are thinking.

I can be thankful that my son has friends to text. And that he didn’t end up ruining anything after all. That he learned something about communication.

If I can live past the moment of intense embarrassment with kids, then I will have a hearty laugh later. And I can learn to love the fact that God has made us all different.

Maybe seeing imperfections are just the foundation we need for us to gravitate nearer to the perfection of who God is. He accepts us. So, therefore I must do the same.

I mean, living with the perception of needing absolute perfection would make a pretty boring life. And I do need more fodder for novels…

Hey, Amelia Bedelia’s employers got over her major flaws every time with a dessert she made. Oh no, I’m not going that direction. I’d have blood sugar issues in a month!

God is perfect in all his ways. I am not God. I’ll arrive at “destination perfection” when I get transferred to another realm. For now, I’m going to work on seeing the imperfections as ways to humble myself, grow in grace, and just be dog gone fine with it all.

~ Prudence

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