Writing is hard. The person that says otherwise doesn’t practice it or allow it to consume them as bloggers and writers do. I fretted and erased, procrastinated and shoved aside this post for a bit because I didn’t like the way it was taking shape. And also because it was hitting deep on my own writing.
Nothing is ever perfect. Not a single thing. There’s always an imperfection, a dent, something askew or off-kilter. Social media has allowed that facade to remain though. We post only the statuses or tweets of what is good. We instagram the very best with a filter. (I am guilty of it too, so the finger is pointing solely at me in this)
I think we begin to live in that perfection though. I think we hunger for the sheen and long for the ideal when in fact we are quite short of that in all aspects of our lives. Expectations mount, leaving a trail of disappointment and disillusionment in their wake. For me personally I have come to battle those expectations recently in various ways, not truly understanding they were formed and created by my own hands and my own thoughts.
It’s taken tense moments, gut-wrenching conversations and a flood of tears to realize that perfection is cast from the rod of doubt. It doubts God and whether He’ll come through as we believe He should. It fits Him into a box which should never be constructed and thrusts Him into living up to my idea of how it should go. So we strive to obtain, to maintain, to increase and feed the beast that is perfection. We question whether others are doing it as they should, when that’s not ours to question. But we do in order to divert attention and put ourselves in a place to judge from our perceived perfection.
On and on it goes…
But in the moments and conversations, the prayers and singed heart I have found that perfection isn’t meant for me this side of heaven. While I am an eternally living for God believer, growing and maturing, learning and serving, it won’t be in perfection until I meet Him in heaven.
So instead of waiting for perfection I am choosing to live in who I am, who He yearns for me to be. If that means I have man-calves, so be it. If it means the writing isn’t as polished as it could be, so be it. But just because I may be single or haven’t finessed a post will not stop me from pursuing that high calling He has given me. The lie of perfection is no longer being cast by the rod of doubt in my life. It has no place and it’s license has been revoked, permanently.