Tag: perfection

Reminders of grace for those of us who are imperfect

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It’s official.  My “baby” tugged on his sneakers, pulled his backpack onto his shoulders, grabbed up his lunchbox and headed out the door to  kindergarten this week.

In the final week of summer, we all chimed in with school-preparation tips:

When to go to the bathroom.  How to ask to  go to the bathroom.  Where he would sit on the bus.  His room number, his lunch number, his teacher’s name, and the clipchart behavior system they use at his school.

The behavior chart caught his attention.  He prayed at night that he would only ever “be on green and never have to clip down.”

At Open House, we met his teacher and he played with toy animals and dinosaurs while I signed the pile of forms.  He zipped over to  me for a quick second while I was in mid-signature to tell me that he had accidentally knocked over the animal bucket….just accidentally….but he had picked it right up because he didn’t want to clip down.

He whispered “clip down” like he was describing ultimate doom.

So with all of his focus and concern over clipping up or clipping down, I probably shouldn’t have been surprised by his last words to me before heading out to the bus on the first  day of school:

I might have to visit the principal’s office.

Wait.  What?

It wasn’t a little prophecy; it was a confession of fear.  The worst thing that could happen would be getting sent to the principal and he was worrying over that.

He didn’t visit the principal, of course.  He climbed off the bus at the end of the first  day with a good report: No clipping down.  No time out.  No conferences with the principal.

I love that he is so intent on doing the right thing and I love that the chart is really motivating him to  try hard to make  good choices.

But I have also been taking the time to counterbalance this with a conversation about grace.

Because I think he needs the reminder.  And maybe I do, too.

He’s not perfect.  He’s just a five-year-old little boy trying really hard to do the right thing and sometimes he won’t get that exactly right.

So somehow he has to learn this incredibly difficult balance between trying to do what’s right , and yet not being terrified of mistakes or paralyzed by the fear of doing the wrong thing.

After all, Jesus didn’t come to earth and die a painful, sacrificial death to atone for a bunch of people who never get it wrong.

He came because we needed His help! We needed a Savior.

I read a prayer this morning that included asking God to  bring my faults to light so He could work on them and I thought–Oh Jesus, please don’t do that!  I don’t really want to see or know or have anyone else see  or know all the ugliness of sin in me.

Later this morning, I prayed for direction and guidance, and I began to feel the pressure of getting it right, not  making a mistake, not choosing the wrong direction and ending up  in  the completely wrong place instead of where God intended.

It can start to feel like it all depends on me to do right, choose right,  be right.

So, instead of feeling the weight and the pressure of perfectionism,  I have to heave all that off of my shoulders and down at the feet of Christ.

This doesn’t depend on me.  It  is not up to me.

I read in the Psalms this reminder:

 God—he clothes me with strength
and makes my way perfect (Psalm 18:32 CSB).

I can depend on God, not on myself or my own effort.  It’s His strength I need.  And it’s God who makes “my way perfect.” I trust Him to  change me, to direct me, to help me be more like Jesus.

What I really need is to know Jesus, to love Jesus, to trust Jesus.  He cares enough about me to  forgive me,  to offer me fresh starts, and He’s big enough and strong enough to rescue me, redirect me and take me to the place He plans for me to go.

That’s why I lean into my son and I tell him, “Absolutely, I’d love for you always to be on green on the clip chart.  That’d be awesome.  But if there’s a day where you have to clip down, it’s still going to be okay.  You can just start fresh after that.  You can try again.

I’m giving up on perfect and just doing some good

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psalm-37-1

Shhhh…don’t tell my daughter, but I let her down in January.

She just doesn’t know it.

Six years ago, I committed to having lunch at the school with each of my daughters every single month.

Pretty soon, I had three girls in elementary school,:that’s three lunches a month or 27 lunches a year, plus an occasional extra lunch thrown in for a birthday or other special occasion.

My kids are typically on top of this, too.  If I haven’t had lunch with my youngest daughter within the first week of a new month, she starts nudging.

Mom, you know you haven’t had lunch with me this month, right?  When are you coming?

But January zipped right past me with days off school, half days with weird schedules, and what felt like endless doctor’s appointments.

My husband says—You’re eating lunch with them at home on the days off.  Doesn’t that count?

No.  That does not count.

Finally, on the last day of January I resigned myself to the truth:  I’d failed: A five year streak of faithfulness broken by a wacky school schedule and a packed calendar.

 

At the beginning of this year, I set some goals in four areas of my life:  Marriage, Parenting, Ministry, and Self-Care.

I’ve been replacing soda with water or green tea.

I’ve been exercising and listening to podcasts while packing my kids’ school lunches.

But there’s one that’s harder to do. It’s not a box to check off or a physical habit to create.

IT’S THIS:  CHOOSE TO BE GENTLE WITH MYSELF.

It means not letting Mom Guilt terrorize my like the tyrant it is.

It means not listening to my self-criticizing internal dialogue.

It means putting a Lunchable in my kids’ lunch box every once in a while.

It means not beating myself up if I occasionally have to order pizza for dinner or go for the quick-fix like boxed macaroni and cheese.

It means laughing instead of berating myself if I forget, and cutting myself off from chores in the evenings so I can spend some time with a cup of hot tea and a book.

AND YES.  THE STRUGGLE IS REAL TO LET GO AND CHOOSE GRACE.

I still have this nagging sense of guilt that I didn’t make it to the school for those lunches in January.  It’ll probably plague me for a long time because I can’t go back and fix it. I can’t make it all perfect.

Then I read what the Psalmist said:

Trust in the Lord, and do good;
    dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness.
4 Delight yourself in the Lord,
    and he will give you the desires of your heart.

5 Commit your way to the Lord;
    trust in him, and he will act.
(Psalm 37:3-5 ESV).

Trust Him and do good. That’s what it says.

It seems I spend a whole lot of time and effort trying to “do perfect” or “do all.”

But that’s not what God asks of any of us.

God doesn’t expect perfection because He knows we’re imperfect.

He simply asks us to trust Him, “do good” and keep doing good.  Choose the right things.  Show up day after day.  Be faithful.

Even more than that, don’t try to figure it all out or make it all work.

He’s not going to give us the desires of our heart because we worked like mad-women to make them happen.

HE GIVES US THE DESIRES OF OUR HEART WHEN OUR GREATEST DESIRE IS FOR HIM.

And after Jesus, what is it that my heart desires?  It’s to love my kids to Christ.  One missed lunch isn’t going to change that.

You cannot be perfect today.  Neither can I.

But we can trust God and do good and leave everything in His hands.

AND WE CAN CHOOSE TO BE A LITTLE GENTLE WITH OURSELVES TODAY.

SHRUG OFF SOME SHAME AND STEP INTO SOME GRACE.

LET GO OF SOME EXPECTATIONS AND CLING TO THE FREEDOM CHRIST OFFERS.

Originally published February 26, 2016

Today I can’t do perfect, but I can do good

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psalm 37-1

Shhhh…don’t tell my daughter, but I let her down last month.

She just doesn’t know it.

Five years ago, I committed to having lunch at the school with each of my daughters every single month.

Now that I have three girls in elementary school, that’s three lunches a month or 27 lunches a year, plus an occasional extra lunch thrown in for a birthday or other special occasion.

My kids are typically on top of this, too.  If I haven’t had lunch with my youngest daughter within the first week of a new month, she starts nudging.

Mom, you know you haven’t had lunch with me this month, right?  When are you coming?

The very first day my kids went back to school after winter break—the very first day!!!!!–she came home from school and asked when I was coming for lunch.

But January zipped right past me.  I made it up to the school for my  youngest daughter (or I’d never have heard the end of that failure!), but not to eat with my two older girls.  Every time I planned a day for school lunch-time, we had a snow day.

When they actually had school, I was in a mad rush to make up for everything I didn’t get done because of those same snow days.

My husband says—You’re eating lunch with them at home.  Doesn’t that count?

No.  That does not count.

Finally, on the last day of January I resigned myself to the truth:  I’d failed: A five year streak of faithfulness broken by winter weather and a packed calendar.

Funny thing is, the one daughter who I thought would be bruised and destroyed forever by my failure never even noticed.  She didn’t pressure me about it, didn’t nag or pester.

So, I’m not telling her I missed out on January’s cafeteria lunch.  It’ll be our little secret. I just went early in February and hoped for the best.

At the beginning of this year, I set some goals in four areas of my life:  Marriage, Parenting, Ministry, and Self-Care.

I’ve been replacing soda with water or green tea.

I’ve been exercising and listening to podcasts while packing my kids’ school lunches.

But there’s one that’s harder to do. It’s not a box to check off or a physical habit to create.

It’s this:  Choose to be gentle with myself.

It means not letting Mom Guilt terrorize my like the tyrant it is.

It means not listening to my self-criticizing internal dialogue.

It means putting a Lunchable in my kids’ lunch box every once in a while.

It means not beating myself up if I occasionally have to order pizza for dinner or go for the quick-fix like boxed macaroni and cheese.

It means laughing instead of berating myself if I forget, and cutting myself off from chores in the evenings so I can spend some time with a cup of hot tea and a book.

And yes.  The struggle is real to let go and choose grace.

I still have this nagging sense of guilt that I didn’t make it to the school for those lunches in January.  It’ll probably plague me for a long time.  Because I can’t go back and fix it. I can’t make it all perfect.

Then I read what the Psalmist said:

 

Trust in the Lord, and do good;
    dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness.
4 Delight yourself in the Lord,
    and he will give you the desires of your heart.

5 Commit your way to the Lord;
    trust in him, and he will act.
(Psalm 37:3-5 ESV).

Trust Him and do good. That’s what it says.

It seems I spend a whole lot of time and effort trying to “do perfect” or “do all.”

But that’s not what God asks of any of us.

God doesn’t expect perfection because He knows we’re imperfect.

He simply asks us to trust Him, “do good” and keep doing good.  Choose the right things.  Show up day after day.  Be faithful.

Even more than that, don’t try to figure it all out or make it all work.

He’s not going to give us the desires of our heart because we worked like mad-women to make them happen.

He gives us the desires of our heart when our greatest desire is for Him.

And after Jesus, what is it that my heart desires?  It’s to love my kids to Christ.  One missed lunch isn’t going to change that.

You cannot be perfect today.  Neither can I.

But we can trust God and do good and leave everything in His hands.

And we can choose to be a little gentle with ourselves today.

Shrug off some shame and step into some grace.

Let go of some expectations and cling to the freedom Christ offers.

 

 

No Pain, No Gain: Part II

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I’ve learned to take a mild Facebook hiatus from about January 1st until just about February 15th every year.

That’s because everyone’s New Years Resolution seems to involve fitness and they are all eager to share their chosen method of extreme weight loss.

I know better.  I always feel that making exercise an official “resolution” sets me up for failure every time.

Cynic that I am at times, I also admit that I just wait for the Facebook exercise updates to disappear after a few weeks and then we all return to a normal and pleasantly non-guilt-inducing state of indolence and inactivity.

If you’re a Facebook user, you likely know exactly what I mean.  It begins on the very first day of the year:

“I hit the gym at 6 a.m. today!”

“I ran 3 miles in the rain, uphill, did my Zumba class and swam 15 laps today. Spin class tonight”

“I’m training for the around-the-world marathon and made it to Switzerland in record time today.”

Okay, that last one was a bit of a stretch.  Still, you’ve probably read updates just like that.  Or, perhaps you’ve written them yourself.

Over time, all but the most ardent of exercise-lovers cease to post how many miles they ran that day or how many hours they spent at the gym or how much sleep they missed out on in order to run twelve miles.

Lesson Two: Transformation Takes Time

For most of us, lack of instant results sabotages our best health intentions.  As I wrote in No Pain, No Gain: Part I, we must remember that no one begins as an expert or starts perfectly.  No one achieves perfection at the moment of salvation or within a week of starting Bible study.

And yet, somehow we expect this of ourselves.  We step on the scale after a few days of exercising, blink our eyes in disappointment that we haven’t lost 50 pounds and dropped two dress sizes, and pack it all in.  Clearly, exercising to the point of not being able to walk isn’t working.

Then again, maybe you do drop off 5 pounds a day for a short time.  And then you plateau.  And the results don’t come as easily any more.  And you don’t think you’re making progress.

And you quit.

In our faith-walks, also, God is engaged in a life-long work of transforming us into His Son.  Sometimes we expect one week of consistent quiet times, one month of ministry, one Bible study session, or one afternoon of prayer to serve as the Bippity Boppity Boo of a fairy godmother, magically transforming us into princesses fit for a heavenly ball.

But there’s beauty in the imperfections that Christ perfects day by day.  There’s power in sharing our growth and progress with one another, in being vulnerable, open, and transparent about the mistakes we make and the God whose grace covers over them.

Lisa Harper wrote in Stumbling Into Grace:

“The older I get, the more convinced I am that admittedly flawed sinners are the most credible witnesses of Jesus, because people with scars can’t fake moral perfection.  It’s glaringly apparent we can’t save ourselves. . . .We prove how miraculous and restorative the love of God really is. . . . Please don’t listen to the enemy when he tries to convince you it’s time to wave a white flag.  To cry uncle.  To stop believing and talking about how good God is simply because you’ve made some bad mistakes.  Stand back up and keep walking in faith.  It’s okay if you’re a little wobbly”  (p. 189).

In Matthew 5:48, Jesus gave His perspective on how perfect we need to be: “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (NIV).

Wow!  That’s daunting.  Overwhelming.  Discouraging even.

Yet, Stephen Arterburn wrote that the Greek word for perfect is teleos, which means, “the goal, the consummation, the final purpose toward which we are moving.”  It “carries the sense of ‘complete,’ ‘mature,’ or ‘being at the proper stage at the proper time.”  He says:

What matters to God is the journey, not just the arrival at the goal. God’s concern is not that we’ve arrived but that we continue to face and travel in the right direction.  For his grace both empowers our obedience and forgives our failures.

Jesus gave us freedom to be less than perfect, but still asked us to be involved in the perfecting process. Be on the path to maturity, He said.  Be at the right stage of development; don’t lag behind by becoming a spiritual couch potato.

Paul said it this way: “train yourself to be godly.  For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come …Be diligent in these matters; give yourself wholly to them, so that everyone may see your progress” (1 Timothy 4:7b-8, 15, NIV). 

We are called to diligence and intense training in godliness, giving ourselves wholly over to maturing in Christ “so that everyone may see our progress.”

The point of our piecemeal progress and stumbling path to grace isn’t to show off our new look.  It’s to give glory to God.  It’s our testimony to others.  They look at us and marvel at the work God has done us and they seek God’s powerful involvement in their own lives as a result.  They want what we have.

We become the slim and toned chick on the exercise video who people want to look like.  They’ve seen the before and after pictures and think, “If God can do this in her life, think what He can do in mine!”

So, they’re willing to engage in some spiritual muscle-building, willing to walk around sore and stiff for a while, willing to skip out on what’s easy in order to do what’s hard—because they want God to transform them just as He transformed us.

Heather King is a wife, mom, Bible Study teacher, writer for www.myfrienddebbie.com and worship leader.  Most importantly, she is a Christ follower with a desire to help others apply the Bible to everyday life with all its mess, noise, and busyness.  To read more devotionals by Heather King, click here.

Copyright © 2011 Heather King