Everyone say hi to Amber, who writes at Mr. Thomas & Me. She is a small town girl with big city dreams, a heart for God and family that comes with a whooping side of sarcasm. According to Amber, “for years I kept God and my blog separate. Then life fell apart and God brought my family, marriage, and Him and I together… His voice and His push were undeniable and I realized it was time to write for His glory instead of for mine.” 
As a girl who is used to having it all figured out, my psyche has taken a turn for the interesting, though challenging lately. My usually unquestioning mind is struggling with the things I know of God and the way in which they do -or don’t- appear to be playing out in my life. This has turned into a full throttle wrestling match with Him… and something about it has opened a new form of honesty in me. It’s beautiful and refreshing.
He’s allowing for me to push… And, in return, is pushing back. It’s lit a fire under my, in comparison, lukewarm ass and birthed a new hunger in my soul to experience Him. God’s voice is on a screaming volume when I’ve only ever heard a whisper. He’s demanding my attention and I’ve acquiesced with ears (and heart) wide open.
For as long as I can recall, I’ve managed an intimate and serious relationship with perfectionism. He’s abusive in all ways -emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually. While he has been affectionately embraced by teachers, coaches, and group mates, it is much more than the in the classroom, on the field, through the project way he manifests his hunky self. In fact, P. Fection grew into an all-consuming man who managed a chokehold around every single part of my life.
Though he started in school, he managed to escape academia and attack life in general. P. Fection pointed out my love handles, my size 8, my ever-pimpled chin… He then took a turn on my writing, my painting… And finally, my relationships. Never the good enough, loyal enough, devoted enough friend, I deemed myself unworthy.
My heart burns with desire to be the perfect daughter, friend, sister, wife, employee, teammate… The list goes for miles. Not only do I wish perfection in the present, but I’ve gone retroactive on myself -spending hours running through memories past and hating many words, actions, thoughts, and motives.
In fact, (the memo goes on) I am allowed to be imperfect because of His perfect. In His perfect there is grace in which I can rest and appreciate. Over the last few weeks, He has grasped my broken self and pointed out how each of the little pieces -though fractured- are glorifying to Him because in my weakness He is strong. (2 Corinthians 12:9)
I am broken, flawed, imperfect. He is perfect, proficient, restorative. Though my list of wrongs resonates hauntingly in my mind, I’m the only one beating myself up for said ill moments. I, the wrongdoer, am the only one stewing, hurting, hating my wrongs. And the God who has every reason to condemn me as a result of my lies, deceit, jealousy, gossip, hate, anger won’t.
But why God? Why so much mercy and grace? Because our sin, mistakes, and shortcomings are between us and Christ. Like when an adulterous woman is brought before Christ to be stoned, he says:
Christ, the only man free of the bondage of sin, can throw the first stone. His perfection not only allows for condemnation, but, more importantly, provides for complete forgiveness. He provides mercy where we deserve condemnation, pain, and sadness. I need to forgive myself for my lengthy list of transgressions.
I can hardly forgive my imperfections. I need love. And He’s got that for me.
Inherent in imperfection is doing things the wrong way, slipping up, getting a scuff when I fall down. But, those imperfections need to make me who I am, not make me hate who I am. It’s time to let go and love.
