It's funny how God speaks. Through the weirdest things and in His own quirky timing. And in that timing it seems so absurd that He has chosen to speak, but I know that's the exact moment when my heart is ready to hear it. And wouldn't you know it was while I was vacuuming. My used-to-be least favorite chore... until I got a Dyson. Now it's one of my favorite household chores, because I can see the dirt coming out of my carpet. That's where it began.
Our carpet is SO hairy. (Hence, the Dyson.) Don't get me wrong. I love, love, LOVE my precious pup, but my goodness does he make a mess. And not just hair. Lately he has learned to open the cabinet where we keep the trash. Yogurt and cookie crumbs and taco seasoning packets are now among the things he adds to the carpet to keep his hair company.
And so it began... the negative self-talk. "This house is a mess. How do you let it get this way? Why can't you keep up with it? Can you shave the dog? He needs a bath. This is gross." And while I was at it, even uglier thoughts started to creep in. "Why can't you just get it together? You have so many things to do on your list. Why can't you be more like this friend or that person... they have it all together."
And then it stopped.
I don't know how He does it. But He turned my thoughts into self-reflection instead of self-abuse.
You see... I'm a perfectionist. I come from a long line of perfectionists. Except there's a problem. I'm not perfect. I am far from perfect. And in my need and my desire to be perfect... to be more organized, have a cleaner home, have a well-behaved dog, cook a million meals a week, be the most loving spouse, and on and on and on, I lose myself. I become overwhelmed. I can't manage it.
Perfectionism is my addiction. Perfectionism is my dis-ease.
I was able to manage and control this perfectionism of mine when my roles were limited... student, daughter, friend. I could easily make good grades to please teachers and parents. Making wise decisions and being a loyal friend were also easy enough.
But then - all in a short span of time - I took on different roles: wife, homeowner, worker. It's been four years and I still haven't been able to figure out how to make all "A's" in these roles, like I could in my student role. I haven't been able to manage my perfectionism.
Somewhere along the way I took my parents encouragement to, "Do your best," into my own mantra of, "Be the best, and only then will you be happy."
It's crazy. And it has got to stop.
The good news is that it can. Through Christ, I am seen as perfect in God's eyes. My need to be perfect is to please an imperfect world.
This year I am going to go back to "doing my best," instead of trying to "be the best." Somedays my best might not be as good as other days. And that's okay.
I wanted to close this post with some very imperfect "secrets" I try to hide, knowing that by bringing them to light they can no longer hold power over me... and maybe they will give someone else a laugh.
- As mentioned, my house is hairy. And chances are if you come over, I have just vacuumed and made sure the couch was acceptable to sit on. I don't like admitting it, but it's the truth. And I rarely mop the floors.
- Half the time, my house isn't even picked up. If you were to walk in right now, you would see one magnificent kitchen mess and a load of laundry on the couch.
- Speaking of laundry... I rarely put my clean clothes away. When I do, it's usually from my husband's prompting.
- In the past few months I have gained some weight and my pants don't fit. I'm struggling to like my body.
- I like to start a lot of projects... but they often don't get finished.
- I don't make enough time to cook healthy meals for my family... and so Chik-fil-A it is for the 4th time this week.
- I hate brushing my teeth, and so sometimes I cheat and just don't.
- I ignored most of the mail for about three and a half years... and it only got sorted out when my dad took it home as a project.
- It also took me that long to organize the room designated as the "office" in our house... mostly due to the mail situation.
I am only perfect in my imperfections.
