perfect

Two themes of perfection have been swirling in my heart lately. Here they merge, I hope in a way that makes some kind of sense. At least maybe one of them will resonate with you.

There is this thing with girls where they compliment each other by saying they are flawless. And these compliments, they fly back and forth...forth and back.

And my heart aches a little.

Sweet girls, admiring the filtered and retouched false. Complimenting the illusion of the ideal. What they seek is impossible. What they allude to evades.

Last night after a concert, I packed away T-shirt dummies. Just plugging along, not really paying attention. Then the girl I was helping remarked how anatomically correct, and yet incorrect, they were. Too much detail. And yet impossible detail.

And my heart ached a little.

These little pauses to reset reality in light of the glorious beauty of the loved flawed.

And yet the reality of God’s children is that we stand in the place of having been made perfect. Perfect as in mature and complete, lacking no good thing. Spotless and blameless because we, His children by grace through faith, are covered by the perfect life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Covered and so seen perfect.

Covered, which implies the need for something to be covered. Not airbrushed. Not retouched. Completely covered. Not to earn value in how we present ourselves. But to come undone, falling apart. To be made whole.

The covering already took place in my life and I stand perfect. But I desperately need my habits and patterns to practically line up with this more and more fully. To walk like who I already am. And if I’m honest and vulnerable with who I am, there is no lack of need in this area.

If I’m honest (and let’s be honest, I’m not always), it takes no effort to not walk perfectly. It would be prideful of me to assume that I have to intentionally mess up in order to show that I do not walk in perfection. I do it without trying.

So when a brother or sister feels the need to try to look like the world to make evident that they aren’t perfect, my heart aches a little.

Graciously, God’s children already have been made perfect...mature and complete. Gloriously, we are the loved flawed and so we can be honest and known even though we do not walk perfectly. All the while, being transformed to be able to walk more like who we already are...made perfect.

This is strange to the world around us. But this difference, it is hope that makes others ask why. We must be willing to be different. Yet we don’t have to try to do anything extra to be weird, we already are.

Please let’s stop trying to be what we aren’t. But let’s rest in who we are. And let’s not hide how we walk. But let’s come to the light so we can walk more like who we already are.

We are perfect. We do not walk perfectly. We are strange. We do not have to try to be any more strange.

Pause. Reset reality in light of the glorious beauty of the loved flawed. The perfect.