Masterful Perfection

For many years, I carried a note in my wallet that was sent to me by a lady I met at one of my first speaking events. There weren't a lot of words on the small cream-colored card, but there was a ton of wisdom and insight packed into those few handwritten lines. Her words lovingly encouraged me to remain steadfast in my walk with the Lord, and to stay ever faithful to what He calls me to do. Her words gently reminded me that God's timing is so very different from my own, and that I mustn't try to hinder or rush His perfect plan for my life. Her words passionately implored me to understand that God never expects perfection from me, and to acknowledge each day that He alone is worthy of all glory and honor and praise. The note eventually disintegrated from years and years of me taking it from my wallet, opening it up and reading it ... oh, how I wish I would have thought to laminate that note from my precious sister in Christ, oh, how I wish I would have.

I'm a bit of a perfectionist about a few things ... editing, folding laundry, the way I eat my food, the order that my dishes go in the dishwasher, writing, how my hair is styled, the methodology for the correct scooping of Cool Whip from the container, the texture of my clothing ... OK, maybe I'm a touch more perfectionistic than I'd like to admit. I can't help it, though, that there are certain things that make me a little crazy if I sense they are done incorrectly (translated ... done differently than I would do them). I've been known to rearrange my dishes after someone else had loaded the dishwasher; it's rumored that I've smoothed out my Cool Whip following a renegade scooping; there's even a possibility that I on occasion consume my food in a certain order or create the "perfect bite."

If I haven't learned anything as I've grown older, I've certainly come to learn that perfection in this earthly life is nothing more than wishful thinking ... the truth is that the more I begin to believe I can be perfect or make my circumstances be perfect or expect other people to be perfect, that's when I fail the most, fall the hardest and hurt the deepest. As much as I've come to understand that neither I nor my circumstances nor other people can or will ever achieve perfection, I've also come to realize that there is no failure too extensive, no fall too far, no hurt too penetrating that my God can't repair and restore and renew me.

I think often about the note I used to carry with me ... about the words from someone I barely knew that meant so very much to me. I think about staying true and faithful to what God calls me to do, and I think about how often I've strayed from the course He would have me follow. I think about God's timing and about where I currently am in life, and I think about how often I plead with Him to hurry up and "fix" me. I think about God being truly and completely perfect, and I think about how often I choose not to praise Him. I think about my sin ... I think about how far from perfect I really am ... and I know ... there is no darkness that His light cannot conquer, no place that His arms cannot reach and no sin that He cannot forgive.

He was, is, and forever will be masterful perfection.