Perfection is the four-lane highway on the guilt trip of motherhood.
Anyone who's read my stuff before knows that I am not perfect in any of these aspects. Really not perfect. Some days, I'm determined that my imperfections will not keep me from joy. Some days I do allow my imperfections (and those of people around me) to keep me from joy. Some days I forget I'm not perfect, and I actually do something that impresses myself. And then my camera reminds me.
See, I made this perfectly cute turkey shirt for GBaby. Everything about it impressed me: I made it without a real pattern, loosely following an adaptation from one of my mom's sewing patterns from the 70's. I used only scrap materials, left over from other projects. I hand-embroidered parts. I even finished the seams and top-stitched it, people!
It fits perfectly.
"Gee, I'm so pleased with myself. I must be perfect. I'll take a picture to show everyone that sometimes I do things right. I can almost be a craft blogger (except for that whole I'm-not-a-Mormon part)."
I dropped my camera two weeks ago. And now it doesn't like to focus. (Anyone want to sell me a lens for cheap?)
I was this close to being perfect.
|Now I have to pretend my picture is from the 1960's when I was perfect (except for that whole not-being-born-yet part). |
God sees every part of me, the perfect and imperfect. And still, He loves me. Amen. That's enough to be Thankful. With or without a turkey shirt.
Now, as a bonus reminder, go give a good listen to these two songs from a really great artist. And be thankful for your imperfections, because they can showcase the enormity of God's love.
Just so you know that I'm not making this imperfect stuff up: I had a really crappy attitude for about 36 hours. You can pray for me (and my poor little family). Thanks.