I’m not perfect. Here’s the hard evidence.
I’m not perfect. Not by a long shot. My sink always has that one mug that got missed when loading the dishwasher. I have to wash loads of laundry twice, sometimes three times because I forget about them. I forget a lot of things. I’m a terrible speller (thanks, phonics). And I sometimes say dumb things when I’m nervous.
I’m not perfect. I suspect you aren’t, either.
Isn’t it frustrating?
I mean, do you have any idea how many purple pens I murder while editing a manuscript? My record is 8. 8 pens worth of ink used to slash and correct and rewrite all the imperfections out of a novel (My Mother’s Chamomile, available for preorder NOW! Click Here…I have no shame).
I want to tell you a little story. It’s short, don’t worry.
Last Friday, my kids helped me put the ornaments on the (fake) Christmas tree. It’s the first time they’ve assisted. In years past, I decorated it as they slept to surprise them. And, quite honestly, because I wanted it to be pretty. Maybe just a tiny itty bit perfect.
But this year, my daughter asked if she could help. And my boys got in on it, too.
As we unwrapped each ornament, I was able to tell them story of it (if it had a story). I let them put up the ones they’d made in Sunday school or preschool. I looked at the tree. All the silver bulbs were in a cluster on one side. The bottom half of the tree (where they could reach) was the only part with any decoration. We plugged in the tree only to find that the middle section no longer lights up. Garland zig zagged across the front of the tree.
“It’s so beautiful,” my daughter whispered.
It is. It really is.
Imperfect, yes. But full of so much meaning. Because we did it together. We shared in it.
We have a common moment. A story together. And that is where the beauty lies.
Nails and pie crusts and dirty dishes are all part of life. All part of a story. And, as imperfect as they may be, they are part of making life beautiful.
Even lots of edits and murdered purple pens.
So, how about you give imperfection a big old bear hug. Give yourself a little grace. And afford the same to those around you.
Life is full of mismatched socks and crooked pictures.
And that is beautiful.
Tell me: What are a few of your (minor/funny/embarrassing) imperfections? Have you embraced them? Are you working your tootsies off trying to fix them?