I’m using to being that. The mostly-perfect one. I’ve been a model daughter, a model student, a model mentor, and a squeaky clean Christian. I tried ballet, and was good at ballet. I tried acting and was good at acting. I tried guitar, and was able to write songs and sing them. I dress well. I’m social. People like me, dang it.
But this year has been a year of…. Not That.
I work at a silly job. “You? Are doing THAT for a living? I would have never expected that from you… I thought you were supposed to be a gypsy soul. You? Are doing THAT?”
I have fallen out of touch with important, special people. “Who? Who is this? You? I’m sorry I think you’ve got the wrong number. You couldn’t be her. I think she might be dead.”
I met with the Young Adults Leader Dude at my church at the beginning of this year, and told him that I would be his GO-TO-GIRL for Women’s Ministry. Then I fell off the map. I flaked on him. I stopped going altogether, and when I got follow-up emails, I didn’t respond. I am that flaky person that drove me crazy when I was trying to organize church leadership. “Hello? We were just wondering? If you were going to do anything? That you said you would?”
I was going to write a book at the beginning of this year. I wrote an intro, an outline, a first chapter. It was going to be about challenging the negative female body ideals that are so prevalent in this culture. I rented library books to research the issue. I didn’t read them. I stopped writing the book. I returned the library books late. I lost one altogether. I started wearing make-up again. I would challenge my imperfect face in the mirror; rub bronzer on my cheeks and fiercely argue with the nobler thoughts. “I don’t want to save the world today. I just want to feel pretty.”
It goes on. I have plenty of woe-is-me examples, but today I got hit with one in particular that just made me feel so lame. My dear friend and travel buddy Nicole is taking off to be a park ranger for seven months. This Saturday, she had a goodbye party. I was invited. I didn’t look at the Evite. I forgot to RSVP. I forgot the party. And I didn’t go. This girl is a GOOD friend of mine, and I totally spaced on her celebration.
So what do I do with all this? Holy Voice says, “Accept Grace little ragamuffin,” and I know that’s the answer. None of us are perfect, can be perfect, will be perfect—there’s a reason we need a Savior. But honestly? Looking at that concept, and accepting it in a way that is heart-felt are two different hills to climb. Intellectually, I know that I have received enough grace to dive into and splash around in. But emotionally, I still feel like a laaaame-o.
I heard a sermon last night that was about being present right where you’re at, and finding the purpose in what would seem like a random situation. The pastor talked about Einstein, who apparently had trouble finding a job after graduation. Einstein applied to every physicist in Europe—multiple times. No one would hire him. Einstein deserves a “FAILURE” forehead-sticker too right? He probably thought so anyway.
He ended up working in a patent office. It was a very silly job. But it only took him two hours to get all his work done; the other seven he spent doing physics. He explored his own ideas, unleashed his own theories… And in doing so, came up with E=mc², along with a whole lot of other mammoth brilliance.
I see that God puts people in places for a reason. I see that He can turn seeming failures into successes. His own death on the cross seemed like a shattering failure to everyone who expected him to overthrow the Roman Empire, I’m sure. But the cross wasn’t about politics or winning the popularity vote-- it was about establishing grace for loserly losers; for perfectionists putting on a show. It was so that He could say to me, every time I feel like slapping a Failure sticker on my forehead, “Stop being so dramatic. Don’t dwell in pity puddles, because I’ve already forgiven you and taken care of it. Now go do something productive. Go swing.”
Working on the heart part. Working on the head part too, because let’s be honest: that could use a little bolstering. In the meantime, I do thank God for Grace, and for forgiveness, and for not wasting even silly jobs, and for the possibility of triumphant surprising successes out of failures. I also thank Him for dear friends like Nicole, who had the decency to cut me some slack with words that were impossibly gracious.
And I doubt that I’ll be coming up with the next advancement in quantum physics while killing the hours at this slow, silly job. But.
I can continue to improve my paint skills.
