imperfect

So the thing is...I'm not perfect.
Anyone who has met me can attest to that.
And yet, the other thing is...I want to be perfect.
Anyone who is in my family can attest to that.
And the other-other thing is...I will never be perfect.
Anyone who lives in this broken universe can attest to that.
I believe originally we were made for perfection,
so I think my struggle stems from a latent Garden of Eden gene.
I was meant for a life where everything dovetailed neatly into place...
my relationships, my walk with God, my hair.
All were meant to be perfect.
Then the whole Eve thing went down...blah blah bah.
And here I am thousands of years later still wanting an Eden on earth.
I totally have Eve issues...and yet I am extremely thankful
she was the one who messed up because I know it would have been me.
I would have been gnawing on the apple because I love fruit,
I'm prone to disobedience
and I would have been mesmerized by a wierd talking snake.
That... and the fact that I'm not perfect.
And now I am seeing this in my small boys...this struggle for perfection.
And I am going to call it for what it is...a harbinger of the devil's work.
Strong words, I know. But what started in the garden continues on today.
Lots and lots of lies. Big stinky snake lies.
And if you say them outloud they sound crazy and foolish.
But mostly they live in our heads and our hearts, creating angst and fear.
The lie that I hear in my head on a regular basis is this,
"You need to be good at everything. Perfect, really."
Now, if I say that outloud, I think, "That is absolutely ridiculous."
But now I see Jack dealing with the pressure of school and sports
and friendships and the school yard dynamics.
I see him wavering beneath the pressure of his own reptilian thoughts
of perfection and needing to be good at everything he puts his hand to.
And I then I see Will trying to match up to his big brother's accomplishments burdening his small four year old frame
with 6 year old expectations.
And I am getting ready to go nuts because I see two things,
1) I can see the lies for what they are.
2) I can see myself in my sons.
And the only way I can speak truth into my sons hearts,
or show them how to get free,
is if I am willing to let Jesus expose those slithering lies
that have wrapped themselves so tightly around my own mind and heart.
The lie that has kept rearing it's ugly head in different ways
through out my life...my college eating disorder,
my frenzied control issues (a wide colorful dysfunctional array of them),
and my paralyzing self expectations.
And whereas, Sue the individual, may have been willing to
let the whole "need-to-be-perfect" thing go in herself,
Sue the mom, is not willing to let this lie mess with her kids.
Because, you know, Mommy don't play.
So this is the beginning. This small post.
This small beam of light shining into the dark lie that I tell myself,
that I need to be perfect.
Because there is only one perfect.
That would be Jesus.
And last time I checked, I was not him.