Reason #225

per·fec·tion

   /pərˈfɛkʃən/ Show Spelled[per-fek-shuhn] 

noun

1. the state or quality of being or becoming perfect.

2. the highest degree of proficiency, skill, or excellence, as in some art.

3. a perfect embodiment or example of something.

4. a quality, trait, or feature of the highest degree of excellence.

5. the highest or most nearly perfect degree of a quality or trait.

 

(dictionary.com)

 

 

Here's the truth, I've done this my whole life. Strived for perfection. Look perfect, act perfect, behave perfect, be perfect. Do your absolute best and then, do even better. No excuses for less than the best, and don't expect, or settle for, anything less either.

 

I remember the first time I got my folder signed in school. Second grade. Devastated. I had never gotten in trouble before. I was a spotless, well behaved child. I had set a standard for myself. I was to never have red ink scribbled inside of my folder. Punishment was not a common word in my vocabulary. The standard was to have a perfect record, a perfect record that was now ruined probably by talking. And even at the young age of 7, I beat myself up over it. I didn't let myself move on, I didn't make an allowance for mistakes, no, I couldn't get past this.

 

I remember the first B I made in school. Fourth grade math. My little world caved in. Failure. I was a straight A student, a perfect student. I cried my eyes out. I was so disappointed in myself. I didn't reach the high standard I had set for myself, and I couldn't have been more upset. A tainted record once again. A record that was compose of lines now had a permanent curve on it. Shame on me for allowing that to happen.

 

And this idea of perfect has followed me through every day of my life. This attempt of doing everything right, everything to the absolute best has stuck with me. A personality trait, yes, but probably better classified as a personality flaw. And what's more is that not only do I hate when I let myself down, when I don't achieve the standard I have set, I hate the feeling of potentially letting others down, of letting them witness my short comings first hand. A vicious, never-ending cycle it is!  

 

This weekend, I had a discussion over perfection. Because really, until last year, I felt that I had a perfect life. Perfectly good, I should say. To me, it seemed just fine. I felt like I had done things right, done things well. I had achieved the goals I set for myself. I had, for the most part, met those high standards. And although there were the few things that haunted me, a few things that I had fallen short of according to my own standards, I felt I was close enough to the ideal of perfection, my ideal, mind you.

 

But any fall is fast and hard, faster than you expect and harder than you can imagne, and perfection was quickly blown. There was no way I was going to recover from this. No way I could hide or conceal it either. And it came time to reflect internally. To look at myself and try to decipher truth. And the real truth is, no matter how hard I tried, no matter how high the standards were, no matter how good my intentions were, I'm not perfect. I never was. I never will be. No one is.

 

And it hit me tonight like a ton of bricks. I stood in my kitchen in the silence, and as I rolled crescent rolls around lil' smokeys, my heart sank as I realized that I have fallen short yet once again. Once again, I set a standard, told myself I would do this and that for one particular reason or another, and I failed... miserably, I might add. And I began to do the thing I always do. I began to beat myself up.
How could I do that? Why did I do that? Shame on me. I should know better. I should be more disciplined. I need to set a higher standard and stick to it. And as I stood there, feeling mad at myself and very convicted, these words rolled around in my head.

 

"For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard." - Romans 3:23

 

And it's true. I fall, all the time, I fall. And the more I try to achieve perfection, the more I realize I'll never get there. But I never make allowances. I never excuse anything. So I spend time disciplining myself. Correcting myself and coming up with a new standard to try and achieve. And so I poured my heart out. Asking for forgiveness, and somewhat hating myself for falling short again. And as I read Romans 3:23, He soothed my heart with the words that quickly followed it.

 

"Yet God, with undeserved kindness, declares that we are righteous. He did this through Christ Jesus when he freed us from the penalty for our sins." - Romans 3:24

 

There He goes again. Giving me what I do not deserve. Kindness, forgiveness. Because I am absolutely, 100% imperfect. A girl who falls day in and day out. Some times, I am the only one who sees it, some times others have to unfortunately witness the ugly spill. But God, in His kindness, in His compassion, is so quick to remind me that no one is perfect. We all fall down, we all trip, we all make a mess one way or another. And so I thank Him that when I do, when I fall short, which is more often than not, He is gracious to help me back up. Gracious to extend forgiveness to me time and time again. And gracious to love me, to accept me, and to use me in my completely imperfect state.

 

#225 - Because He is willing to work with imperfection.

 

"Always be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other’s faults because of your love." - Ephesians 4:2