I’m going to let you in on a secret… I make mistakes. Okay, it’s not a secret. But apparently I’ve held myself to an unrealistic standard. And it’s a pretty lofty one. This standard says it’s not okay to mess up. This standard causes me to dwell upon my mistakes. It causes me to beat myself up. And sometimes it throws me into a hopeless pit that I can’t work myself out of.
But my beautiful Jesus. He keeps whispering to me. And sometimes… sometimes I hear him.
During our time of evangelizing to small businesses last week, we stopped at a small, newly opened shop. There was just one young woman behind the counter, no more than 22 years old. As I turned through my Bible to find a passage to share with her, Ephesians 1:7-8 came to mind, “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding.”
I read these verses to her and told her that Jesus knew exactly what he was doing when he died for her. He knew every sin she was going to commit, even in thought. He knew every time that she would deny him. But yet for the joy set before him he endured the cross. And the forgiveness she has, the grace given, has been lavished upon her. Lavish means: to bestow something in generous or extravagant quantities upon. Meaning he has extravagantly adorned her with more than enough grace to cover every sin, every mistake she will ever make.
Later that day, I realized that the Lord often brings to mind the things we ourselves need reminding of. The grace that he has lavished upon the shop owner with all wisdom and understanding has been lavished upon me.
This year, Jesus has slowly been working on my heart. Before I left for The Race, I decided I wanted to discover and experience the love of Christ like I never have before.
But accepting this love is a process. And I am thankful for his patience.
In June, when the women of O-Squad had a discussion about being the bride of Christ, I realized that for all my talk about what I desired, I hadn’t trusted him with my heart. I wasn’t opening myself to him and allowing him to fulfill the things that I knew were in his divine character to give.
In July, Jesus began releasing me from the perfectionism that affects my actions. Perfectionism that causes me to be anxious and incredibly self-critical of the things I write or say or create. I wrote a blog that highlighted 1 Corinthians, which says it is in our weaknesses—our flaws—that his power is made perfect.
And now in August, I’ve realized that this unrealistic standard—perfectionism—has seeped even deeper into my life. It has sat silently between my heart and Jesus, keeping me from fully accepting his grace so that I can forgive myself and move onward. And in refusing to fully accept his grace, I have been refusing to accept a major part of his love.
So two months later, I want to say I’m sorry that I still haven’t trusted you to fulfill all of the things that I know are in your divine character to give. I want to receive all aspects of your love, so I can give all aspects of your love. And I want to enjoy the freedom that I have in you.
Galatians 5:13, the second verse I shared with the woman at the shop says, “You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature, rather, serve one another in love.”
His grace has freed me from sin. I am seen as blameless in his eyes.
There is nothing I can do that will make him love me more.
And there is nothing I can do that will make him love me less.
It’s a beautiful thing. But it’s not an excuse to continue to sin.
And so this is my new standard: To live a life pleasing to the Lord, understanding that his extravagant grace will always be enough to cover me whenever I fall short. And when I do, I will give him thanks and pray for a new strength to stand up against my shortcoming. And then I will move on, seeking to serve others in love.
Thank you for lovingly reading through the monotony of my last few blog posts. This is the final installment of the Perfectionism Trilogy. (I think…)
