I am a recovering perfectionist. Weeellll, I can’t honestly say I’m recovered, but I am working on getting there. I did have to do about a bazillion things and get them all perfectly in order before I could sit down and write today. So there’s that.

I have always chased perfection. Ever since I was little, I have had a longing for everything to be in its place; including my life. My lovies had a particular place on my bed. The knick-knacks and barbies all had a home. When I got married, my husband used to mess with my throw pillows because I had to have them in a certain order. I usually can’t sit down until everything is picked up and put away. When something in my life goes wrong, I react illogically and emotionally. It’s my fantasy for control.

Perfection is not attainable this side of Heaven.

I was on a walk admiring the scenery around our town lake. Everything grows naturally. There are so many types of plants, bushes, and trees. The turtles sun-bathe on the logs floating in the water. It’s gorgeous. Some people would love to see the landscape a little more manicured. I like it a little wild.

As I exited the trail, I thought about my boys. I thought I wanted perfection for them. But, I don’t. Perfection isn’t reality. I want them to live life, make mistakes, and experience reality. I don’t want them chasing something that they will never find. I want them to grow naturally, like the foliage around the lake. It is in that wild growth where beauty blossoms.

We desire to protect our children. We long to keep them safe and cushion them from getting hurt knowing that our hearts will shattered just as hard as theirs; if not more. But, when I look back at my journey, I see a slew of mistakes that made me who I am today. Mistakes taught me, humbled me, challenged me, made me stronger, shifted perspective, shifted directions, and taught me more than I would ever had known had I lived a sheltered life. I don’t want my boys to hurt, but I do want them to learn.

“Not that I have already obtained it or have already become perfect, but I press on so that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold of by Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:12

Perfection isn’t reality until eternity. If I convince my sons that they can live a perfect life than I am preventing them from wanting more for themselves, for their friends, for their families, for the strangers they meet. I don’t want to limit them by sheltering them from imperfection.

I look at the trail down by the lake seeing the untamed landscape and am reminded that life grows there. Life expands in all its twists and turns and knotted limbs. Sometimes, there is overgrowth that needs to be trimmed back or weeds that need pulling. But, that’s where experience happens and wisdom matures.

I want life for my kids, not perfection. I will (slowly) give them wings as they filter out this life being there to help them trim back the impassable trail and pull out the stuff that’s choking them down. I will remind them that they were meant for more: their longing is a longing for eternity where perfection will meet them at the gates. For now, however, I will teach them to embrace the longing for perfection and not to shy away from the imperfect because that’s where Jesus resides. I will show them my scars and allow them to see that mommy, too, lives an imperfect life. We will trudge along together on the path where the terrain runs wild and free learning, growing, and searching for the only One that can bring us true perfection.

Love & Blessings,
Meg