A perfect game in baseball requires 27 straight outs. In gymnastics, you need a 4.0. In bowling, it’s 300.
Today, I am 49. Or as my son, Craig, put it “a perfect square.”
As a mom, I chose to overlook the Algebra reference or whatever else the word “square” implied, and focus on the fact that my son thinks I’m perfect!
Well, I may not be…but my birthday was close to perfection. My oldest son, Derek, is home from Colorado, so with the exception of my grandsons, I had my immediate family under my roof for my birthday…that’s perfect.
Even though we strive for perfection in our lives those moments we achieve it are few and far between. One single up the middle…one wobble on the landing…one pin left standing.
What in your life are you attempting to perfect? Is it in your means to reach it?
I realize that even if my sons did believe their mom was perfect, I am hopelessly flawed. I snort when I laugh…I’m forgetful and have trouble concentrating… I love sweets and have no plan to give them up, not matter how much I should. I’m legally blind without my glasses, drive above the posted speed and never seem to accomplish as much each day as I should.
And yet, God loves me, flaws and all. In fact, were it not for my imperfections, I’d have little need for God in my life at all. But because of my flaws, and my painful awareness of them, I do need God. I need His strength… His compassion… His mercy.
And, when I allow God to work through me, He can use all my imperfections…all my weaknesses…to bring Him glory. All I have to do is let Him.
~~ 2 Corinthians 12:9