Little Lessons // Perfection

My sisters asked me the other day if I would participate in a novel writing contest with them. My first reaction was to laugh.

Me? A writer?

Sure, I halfheartedly try to blog a few times a year... But writing for school was torture. It used to take me days to motivate myself to sit down and actually get out a draft that was worth even considering to submit. I faced down some of my worst days of procrastination in classes that required regular essays.

As Melissa and Molly pressed for a reason as to why I wouldn't consider participating, I brushed it off with perfectionism...

"Guys, honestly, I'm too perfectionist to write 50,000 words on one storyline in 30 days. There's just no way."

And then I was talking to my mom this morning...relating stories of family and friends.

As I blurted out random happenings here and there, musing on the awesomeness of God using trials to bring us together. And really understanding that it's as if somehow making us vulnerable little creatures actually allows us to feel for one another and experience true Christian fellowship.

The irony of the situations came to light.

That perfectionist spirit that makes me over-the-top OCD and a crazy organized nut (but a terrible fiction writer) is also something that I need to leave in open hands. Because God takes this and molds it into those trials-turned-blessings.

Honestly, God's taken precious things in my life. Things that weren't perfect, but in my eyes, came about as close to that golden state as we'll get this side of heaven...he took those things, pulled back the curtain, and showed me the work that needed to happen, showed me that the "golden state" was merely an illusion.

Work isn't pretty. And this kind of work makes me think of a muddy field, a shovel, and some brown-splotched overalls. That kind of work and that kind of dirt.

(and this OCD personality isn't very keen on that kind of work...just for the record)

So when the cringing starts and I honestly have no clue how we're gonna turn the muddy field into something worth smiling at, much less just worry about salvaging my muddy overalls, well maybe I'll rethink things. Because I'm missing the point.

God's less worried about my dirty self being preserved and more concerned with dumping the muddy clothes altogether and just starting fresh. God's more concerned about turning the perfectionist-focused me into a Christ-focused me. God's more concerned about using this muddy field to help other farmers feel like they're not alone, than he is about pulling a magic act out of his hat and giving me a garden overnight.

It's less about making everything so perfect for me to be happy in. And all about sanctifying us, allowing us to minister to other believers as we all strive to glorify our Father in Heaven.

"...I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." ~Galations 2:20