Perfection- Get it the bleep away from me.

The culture in which I live has this thing about looking good. We are obsessed with looking good. We love a good first impression. We are all about skin and hair and having a yard with no weeds and smelling good and the flowers out front matching the shutters and websites being “relevant” and “accessible” (took me about three times to spell). We polish our blog posts and our cover letters and even our thoughts, even our prayers. Here, I’ll polish this: Looking good isn’t a bad thing. But this culture is obsessed with it. 

I do not value polished-ness. I do not value it in writing, I do not value it in song, I do not value it in speaking. I value raw-ness and vulnerability. There is no-thing wrong with polished-ness, and I am sorry for discounting anyone’s polished-ness, because of my brokenness towards it. Your polished-ness is beautiful. If you like it, own it. I respect you and I will listen to what you want to say.

But for me, I gotta let it go altogether. I can’t hold onto a single drop because it will ruin me. 

I am performance-oriented, people-pleasing oriented. Performing well doesn’t fill me up or make me happy, but a bad “performance” makes me feel horrible about myself. I’m not afraid of rejection. I’m afraid that I won’t do well enough. If my performance is good but they reject it, that’s okay. But if my performance was bad, I feel horrible no matter what the results are. I hate that. 

I made a phone call tonight (for partnership) that I totally botched. I felt really bad about it afterwards. I put a lot, a lot of pressure on myself to say the right things. I give myself no grace for practice. 

So, I wrote down the things I know are true of me. (I do not mean this to be preachy- it is what I told myself.)

When God says, “be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect,” he doesn’t mean I have to be a perfect speaker or a perfect writer or a perfect presenter or a perfect cello player or whatever else. He means Love. Love God, love your neighbor (as you love yourself.) (Which means I’ve gotta love myself too.) I know there is discussion about if the word perfect actually means mature. Either way, it doesn’t mean perform harder. 

Friends, I want this thing to be God’s thing. I don’t want it to even look like it belongs to Kingdom Come Training, or ITeams, or me. It is so easy for me to slip into thinking that I have to make this happen. That’s a lie. My responsibility is to ask. God’s gotta do the providing. Of course, I don’t really want God to provide it all crazy, like in the last possible 2 days or whatever, but I’d rather it be that, than for the world to think I did this myself. I don’t want to fall back into thinking I have to do this myself. I want my rawness, my unpolished, my vulnerability to be a testament to Jesus. Jesus is the whole point.

Jesus has given me enough-ness. I can’t earn it. Jesus has qualified me. Jesus has given me a story to share. Jesus is sovereign. Jesus does not ask me to be anything but His. Jesus’ plans are good. They might be hard, yes, but Jesus will give me the strength to do what He asks me to do. I want to know nothing but Christ crucified (and risen)! 

There is so. so. much freedom and grace and I want to receive it. I cannot, I refuse to even attempt to go back to polished. I’m taking grace, and freedom, and enough-ness. I'm looking forward to the beauty and the soft in the hard places and the life that comes from knowing Love.

Goodnight. 

My sisterfriend Joan created the new heading! Isn't that special and wonderful?!

The Stars Birthed Cerulean

And the Moonlight whispered secrets to the Clouds
And the Wind laughed with the Trees
And the Flowers gossiped with the Grass
And the Roots of the Plants
tucked their toes into the Warm Earth and smiled.

I need a yes, or a no.

Baby

There's this magical thing called Love. Actually, it's not always magical. More often it is made of hardy stuff, like trees and mountains. Or a day full of steady spring rain. Or the way the sun shines on the earth day after long day, curiously and patiently helping the grass to grow. Less magical, and more hard work, perseverance, sweat and tears. Hardy stuff. And like steady rain, sometimes makes you just sit down put your head in your hands, and think long and hard, and maybe cry, if that's your fancy.

And there's hope too, and great happiness and joy and wonder and amazement, and we all know that, don't we?

Today's hardy love is brought to you by the baby leaving.

The baby's leaving by the end of this month, and oh, this house is going to shake.

I have learned

I have learned what beauty is:

to take responsibility for each piece,

to receive this gift I did not create.

I have learned to appreciate

long hair without forcing it

to hold my security.

This, I hold in palms stretched out towards Heaven.

Come and see what the Lord has done!

I have learned to love my 

translucent skin, the thinness 

of wrist bones, these popping hips,

exquisite functions, systems that breathe.

I have learned that beauty is

in the being,

not the doing.

That beauty is to be given, not as something to watch, or ogle,

but as something which offers freedom, safety, and joy.

Beauty is not to be held.

Beauty is not for pleasing people,

but for praising the Creator.

Consider the lilies.

Consider the sacrifice.

Consider the sunrise.

Consider your own eyes.

I have learned to take responsibility

for each piece of this gift,

not as something to tame,

fix, style, purify, or cling to,

but as something to celebrate.

A Breath,

a place to hold peace,

a vehicle for this dancing spirit.

A gift,

given in joy.

I have learned to receive.

That’s beauty.
Thank You.

For Learning

I am putting this here because it seems a good spot. :)

Today, there was much learning,
strong feeling.

I learned:

cho-nen / han-gook-uh-reul / bay-ooh-goh-it-seo-yo.
I am learning Korean

cho-nen / hawk-sing / im-ni-da
I am a student

man-na-seo / ban-gahp / soup-ni-da
Nice to meet you

among other, more personal things.

I completed (almost) day four of no sugar,
walked, twice,

went to ballet class- it was exquisitely painful, which I am glad for, because movement is progress.

And now, I am about to meet via skype with my phonetics instructor, which was a bad idea because I am exhausted and what sounds perfect right now is curling up under the covers and falling asleep to the sound of gentle rain.