We live in this world where we think we should be perfect.  News stories embroiled in controversy and judgment.  Instagram filters and photoshop for so many teenagers, let alone magazines.  Advertisements shrieking beauty and attention and money, selling the elusive perfection.  Expectation, expectation.

Criticism.

We apply for schools, or work, or meet new people, or God forbid, date.  And have to give this account of ourselves.  Life necessitates us committing to exposing ourselves.  Looking for work is terrible:  listing your life in blurry dates and bullet points, searching Indeed.com and wondering if your resume is ever actually read by a human being.  Character examinations, cover letters and the challenge of explaining your career decisions and gaps in employment in first interviews make us paranoid.  We begin to question ourselves for every move we make.  We’re afraid to take chances, make mistakes.  And dating is even worse.

But life is messy.  We are imperfect.  And our stories have much more to tell of grace and eeking by than they do high on the mountaintop successes.

As I grow older, I find that God is so patient and loving with my flaws, my shortcomings.  My bossiness and a lot of ignorance.  My sharp words and fear of confrontation.  My hate of change, and a mild inheritance of OCD.

In His infinite wisdom, He created each of us perfectly.  All of our character is intricately designed to worship Him, to love Him.  To honor Him.

Paul says that “when I am weak, then I am strong.”  (2 Corinthians 12:10B NIV)

As we mature, we begin to understand that our messiness, our insecurities and our brokenness are capable of honoring Him too.  In laying bare all of ourselves– our strengths, our weaknesses, our desires, our fears– at the foot of the cross, Christ can begin to do His transformative work.

Our hesitancy can become intentionality.

Our directness can make us powerful truth speakers.

Our irrational fears can motivate us.

Our neurotic attention to detail can benefit a mindful servant’s heart.

Our ambivalence can be set aflame.

Our uncertainty is transformed to trust.

Love transforms us.  Perfect love doesn’t question itself and pick apart the flaws, but flings itself into the ocean of selflessness and is.  No beginning.  No end.  There’s a beautiful poem, “Saint Francis and the Sow,” that says,

“though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing…”

All parts of us can be healed.  Can be loved.  Can bring light and love to a broken, messy world that is desperate.  We are worthy of second interviews, second dates.  And lifetimes of commitment.

Ephesians 2:10 says, “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (NIV)  Isn’t it incredible that God, the Creator of the universe and each thing in it, knows our every detail, and loves every bit of us anyway?  He knew.

He knew.