A misspelled word in an email.
A Facebook post that isn't linking up correctly.
A misunderstood comment.
A hair out of place, a lack of remembering, a this, a that, a something else...
Harshly, I beat myself up for the seemingly constant imperfections.
The almosts and the not-quites.
Missing the mark.
The attempts at perfection that fail.
They haunt me, stress me, worry me.
I wear them as chains around my neck, but hidden from the world.
I am left struggling to redeem and it chokes the life out of me, stealing my joy.
Do I expect perfection from those whom I love?
Truly, I do not.Yet I have convinced myself that perfection is expected of me!
I have no room for grace...for myself.
I give it freely but I stand defiant, with closed fist, refusing to receive it.
Always perform well.
Yes, I am one of those.
I am a good girl.
I bleed attempts and failures and errors, and grace is my only bandage.
But I refuse this grace.
This grace freely given...
Reliance on self comes to the forefront and settles in for dinner and a movie...and a lifetime.
Winning the affections of others is my battle cry, and I charge!
And end up flat on my face.
Lying there, in the dirt, I repeat it over and over...
It's ok to mess up...
"...and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags..." (Isaiah 64:6)
And so I continue on this quest to stop trying so hard to be a good girl and just be His girl.
What about you? Do you struggle with missing the mark? How have you allowed His grace to wash over you?