The Favor of Imperfection

Everybody needs an imperfect friend. Maybe even more than one.

The friend you call when the days are making you batty– and the crazy oozes out of your emotional pores only 25 seconds into the conversation.

The friend who asks how you are… already knowing. And you begin to spill it all… because you know you’re safe. Why? Because just last week you did the same for her.

Being real is way more important than having it all together. Excuse me, pretending to have it all together.

I have not always understood this. I have not always felt the freedom to be real. For years I allowed my own insecurities to keep me from opening up my home (and my heart) unless it was completely in order. And if I did open it in its’ unkempt status, I was too distracted to enjoy my company fully– noticing out of the corner of my eye a pile of smashed goldfish my harried sweeping job had neglected.

Our insecurities can wreak havoc on our vision. Not our literal vision but– the way we see things. We see a blurry picture of a half-reality, and not what God sees… not the truth. We are His image bearers. He has created us and called us good. We are called to extend the grace that we have received to others. It is difficult to do that when we do not breathe deeply. Try it. Resting in who He made you. Just take a deep breath of KNOWING your value. (If you need reminding– Look HERE) It’s TRUE. Because He says it is. The freedom found in that knowledge? It’s worth more than hopping on the scale and seeing what you want to see. It’s more valuable than having the whole world think you are successful– or even having your kids actually eat that dinner you pinned, shopped for and prepared. We MEASURE up to Him when we measure up to no one.

It’s not just freedom– it’s a deep soul-exhalation.

A breathing out of extra space. The extra space that suddenly appears when it isn’t full of everything we wish we weren’t.

Because the reality? We are imperfect. This imperfection reminds us that we need Christ. And instead of fighting to hide all that we are–that we think no one else is– perhaps we should lean harder into Him. And look around. And extend the grace to others that is so freely given us.

So, please come over. I’ll brush aside the pile of Little People figures. And there might be a small heap of Mary-Janes in varying sizes by my front door– but you are welcome here. I’ll make you an iced coffee, we’ll sit for awhile and you can tell me how you learned that matchbox cars can indeed clog a toilet and permanent marker really is somewhat washable with baby wipes. I’ll laugh and tell you how I hide in the pantry when I need to “regroup” and how I made my kids breakfast for dinner again just because it only involves the toaster. And we will breathe the extra air that imperfection affords us both.