14 May 2011


I think I've memorized 1 Corinthians 13 now.  I'll say it to a few people this weekend and then decide what to work on next.  Possibly a Psalm.

A theme in 1 Corinthians 13 (besides love, obviously), is perfection.  How  the when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.  Also again in verse 12, one I love and try to say often when I look in a mirror:
Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror, then we shall see face to face.  Now I know in part, then I will know fully, even as I am fully known.

This may seem totally basic and unnecessary to say, but for me, it's revolutionizing my moments:

I. Am. Not. Perfect.

Perfection comes later.  When I drop my iPod Nano out in the yard and spend two hours tearing the house apart looking for it, then later the same day can't find my cell phone 'cause I forgot I put it in the right place for once, the van console, my mistakes don't define me.  I can laugh and say, "Wow, I'm sure being scatterbrained today!"

Because I'm not perfect.  And that's okay.

Moving on.  I'll take this point further, apply it larger:

My. Children. Are. Not. Perfect.  

When the 8 year-old tips the jar of plum jam over and looks guiltily up at me I respond with, "It's okay.  It was an accident."  So we spoon what we can back into the jar and wipe up the rest.

I explain to him that he doesn't need to feel guilty.  Now, if instead, he decided just for fun to tip the jar over and spill it on purpose, then some guilt would be necessary.

Dear, dear reader.  If you're still reading.  Will you give yourself and your loved ones permission to be imperfect?  It truly does make a huge difference.

The perfect will come, and we look forward to it.  But for now, our value is not in being perfect, but in looking always unto the perfect Savior who will one day make all things (including His children) new, pure, and right.