mememe

The hardest part that I’ve had to deal with, the greatest challenge in all that has happened… is something that I didn’t want to ‘fess up to. But there it was, staring at me in the face.

Dammit.
Shucks.
Oh man… how could I possibly feel this way?

I truly thought I had it settled, especially since it was a daily prayer. God, break my pride into a million pieces. Crush it if it ever surfaces.

Because I don’t need it.
Don’t want it.
Have no use for it.
But wait, before you start…

Can I explain that I work hard at this? Does anyone see the hours, the days, the nights? I do it for You. For them! … for me? Oh come on, some recognition! That’s all I desire. Someone to say, it’s her! She’s the one!

that… stinks, it does.
It’s not who I am so just take it away.
You know what… I’ll be fine.

This journey, this shedding of all that flesh so craves, this breaking. Destroy it… let things fall a p a r t . Make what I think, my understanding, grow small… because   at   the   end   of   the   day,   the   truth   is . . .  it’s   really   not   about

me.

not one bit.

*

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stripped; what do you see?

It was a slip. But in that briefest of moments, I saw her as she actually was, without the veil of assurance she always wore. Her very words – although punctuated with a well-timed laugh – betrayed her heart. But as quickly as it was revealed, the veil went up again and the person I thought I saw was hidden again.

I looked at her with interest.

It truly doesn’t matter if you have everything going well for you – there’s always something you know you lack, something you battle with in quiet, something that you desire deeply. And I felt compassion.

When are we then made complete? And why this struggle for perfection?

‘Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.’

– Antoine de Saint-Exupery

It is human nature to desire perfection.

Who hasn’t wanted the perfect body, the perfect family, the perfect relationship, the perfect career, the perfect passion, the perfect life? And yet, if we were truthful, we might all agree that these ideals serve one purpose – to hide the fact that deep inside, we feel like losers.

The thing is, being happy is not about perfection. It’s about stringing together all the odds and ends of our strengths, getting comfortable with our nakedness and being proud of the person that we are – our fallible selves.

I’m not there yet. The stripping is still a daily process, like yanking off a band-aid from old wounds, I face my fears every single day. I have to choose to resist my defensive mechanisms coming into play and instead, stand still.

You see, I want to grow comfortable with my weaknesses.

I want to stand, stripped.

Gloriously imperfect.

Wonderfully made.

Hidden.

In the Dream Maker’s arms.

I choose to see Him, as He hung naked on the cross.

He took the stripping, that I might be clothed in His perfection.