The Perfect Lie

It was the first lie ever told.  Years ago in the Garden of Eden.  "'You will not surely die,'" the serpent said to the woman. 'For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.'"  The first lie.  Perfection.  The perfect family.  The perfect marriage.  The perfect children.  The perfect job.  The perfect faith.  Nothing wrong.  Just perfect.

So many times we are afraid to be real, afraid of what others will think if they know we aren't perfect or if they know the depth of our struggle or sorrow or depression or guilt or anxiety.  We are afraid of what they will think if they see the real face behind the facade.  The facade keeps us safe, at a distance.  I see this in myself in my pursuit of being the perfect wife.  I drive myself mad sometimes doing laundry and cooking and cleaning.  I want Brad to think I'm the perfect wife.  I am so NOT the perfect wife...not when I snap at him in frustration or shut down because I'm hurt or upset.  I'm flawed.  So flawed.  The good thing is, he loves me anyway.  Flaws and all.  Actually, my flaws bring out the best in Him.  When he sees that I'm frustrated or on edge, he stops and stills and takes the time to just hold me.  And then he finds a way to make me laugh by saying something goofy or tickling me.  He is strong when I am weak.  My imperfections bring out his goodness and grace.  Such is Christ and the church.  Our imperfections bring out the Lord's goodness and grace.

I see this over and over again with people who share my faith, I see it in myself.  Our society expects Christians to be perfect, to have no faults, to not say the wrong thing at the wrong time, to be without blemish or stain or a sordid history.  The TRUTH is….The Bible is full of imperfect and flawed people who make poor and painful choices.  And these are the very people that God uses to change the course of history, to bring the world hope, to tell the story of the Lord's redeeming love.  Christians MUST be imperfect, or His grace wouldn’t be needed.  Christians MUST stumble and fall before mercy can be shown.  If Christians were perfect, we wouldn’t need a holy God to redeem us.  Just because Christians have chosen to follow the Lord and have chosen to pursue the call of becoming more like Jesus, it doesn’t mean we have achieved perfection.  The moment we achieve perfection is the moment we cease needing the grace and mercy of a holy God who loves us beyond all comprehension.   Imperfection is a qualification of being a Christian, not a disqualification.  Consider the biographies that are contained in God’s Word.  In the Old Testament alone, Sarai (Sarah) told her husband (Abram/Abraham) to sleep with someone else so she could have a child, Rebekah helped her son Jacob steal from his brother Esau and deceive his father Isaac, and Jacob goes on to have many sons who then sell their brother Joseph as a slave.  Later in the Old Testament, Moses doubts and questions God's plan and David whom God calls "a man after his own heart" commits adultery and murder.  The list goes on of imperfect people that God uses to tell His story of redeeming love.  The saying "Christians aren't perfect, just forgiven" is trite, but also very true.  God doesn't call us to perfection, He calls us to faith.  Faith that He is enough, that He can meet our needs, that He will hold us up when we can no longer walk on our own. 

To clarify, I did not share this to give Christians an excuse for the choices they make.  There is accountability for the choices we make and there are consequences.  We should pursue being more like Christ, we should study God's word and seek the Lord in prayer, and we should pursue holiness and righteousness to honor the Lord and we should show compassion to others.  We should be able to look back over a year or six months or a couple months or even a couple weeks and see the Lord working in our lives.  Does that mean we will ever be perfect?  No.  Perfection is a lie that Satan has used to bind us in chains, to make us feel "not good enough".  So, instead of falling for these lies any longer and drowning in loneliness and isolation, let's live more authentically and build community again by depending on one another to help us through the soul and spirit challenging times.  Let's not be afraid to be real with one another...truly real about our lives.  Let's open our hearts and lives and share with each other.  Let's allow ourselves to feel the grief, the sorrow, the disappointment and then let's move forward to a place of hope and peace.  Imperfect.  And together.

Love is...

When my dad died on January 24, my world could have fallen apart.  It felt like it would.  But the Lord blessed me with a precious man who helped hold me together through the shock and denial and tears.  I heard once that our true character is revealed not only in our actions, but also in our reactions.  When my dad died, Brad and I were engaged and going through premarital counseling.  It was a done deal.  We were already committed for life in my eyes, but he stepped up in a very real way that reconfirmed everything I already knew.  Brad was meant for me.  He was meant to lead me.  He was meant to hold me up when I had no strength.  He was meant to be by my side through all the joy and all the sorrow that life on this earth would surely bring.  He was meant to be the love of my life.

On March 17, several hours before our wedding ceremony, our good friend Chris Noles pulled me to the side and played a song for me.  It was a song written by Brad and a few of our friends in the weeks before our wedding.  It was a song about my dad.  I was instantly a mess...and I don't mean a pretty mess, either.  The precious song told our father-daughter story perfectly...the struggle to both hold on and let go.  It was the best wedding gift ever.  A few hours later I walked down the aisle toward a man that my dad would have been incredibly proud to call his son-in-law.  He made sure my daddy was celebrated and remembered on one of the most important days of our lives.  The band who helped Brad write the song played that song at our reception.  It was beautiful.  What a bittersweet day, to be sure, but the joy far outweighed the tears and at the end of the day, I was married to my best friend.

Those of you who know our story, know that mine and Brad's was not always an easy road.  It was a long road in the early years, one frustrated with twists and turns and lengthy detours.  Ours is a rich history of heartache and forgiveness and renewal.  It's far better than any romantic comedy I've ever seen and here we are...married...finally!  Marrying Brad is one of the best things I have ever done.  I am proud to be his wife.  We make each other better.  I love going to sleep next to him every night and waking up beside him each morning.  I love making his breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day.  I love the way he makes me laugh when I am in a grumpy mood.  I love the way he always tells me where he is and what he's doing because he knows I care about these things.  I love the way he says he'll only be at the studio for a few hours and I know that really means he'll be there until 11:00pm or midnight.  I love that he is honest with me, even when the honesty is hard to hear.  I love that he trusts me with his heart.  I love our life.  Completely. 

There are, of course, ups and downs.  There are times we disagree about how to approach something, times we get on each others' nerves, and times we are just insensitive to the other, but love is so much deeper than that.  At our reception, we danced to "Love is a Verb" by John Mayer.  It's so true.  Love isn't only in the words we say, it's in the things we do to show others how much they mean to us.  No one is perfect.  Brad and I are both quite imperfect, actually.  We will fail miserably at some points and we will be learning how to love one another for the rest of our lives, but we won't give up.  We will learn when to let things go and when to push harder.  It is my prayer that we will always fight...not with each other, but FOR each other.  Brad has taught me the importance of that.  He fought for me so many times when we were dating and I wanted to run because it would have been easier.  He still fights for me.  That is love...fighting for the other person, for the best in the other person, for all the memories, and all the hopes for the future.  Love is not giving up, not giving in, not taking the easy way out...it's pushing through and fighting for a future together. 

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.  (1 Corinthians 13:4-8)

 

What I Know

So, I have taken quite a hiatus from blogging seeing that nearly three years have passed since my last post.  My current motivation to blog is no doubt a need to give my thoughts and reflections a voice, to ease the downpour of emotions that have been accosting me these last several months.  To that end, I write...

The past several months have been filled with more life changes than I could have ever anticipated or imagined.  Or even prepared for.  To establish a starting point, my dad passed away unexpectedly on January 24.  I will never forget the phone call from Brad at work telling me that my dad had been found unconscious and that I needed to come home.  Then, there was a second conversation as I was driving home.  I remember being told to pull over.  And I knew.  I knew what he was going to say.  In that one infinitely small moment in time, I knew I would never hear my dad's voice or hug my dad's neck again.  I knew my dad would never walk me down the aisle.  I knew my dad would never tear up as he gave me away.  I knew my dad would never dance with me at my wedding reception. I knew my children would never meet their grandfather.  I knew.  Before Brad said it, I knew.  In that same infinitely small moment in time, I also knew that the Lord would carry me.  He would pick me up in one of my weakest moments and He would carry me.  He would carry my mom and my brother.  He would carry my sister-in-law and my nephews.  He would carry my (then) fiance and our family through one of the most difficult times in our lives.  He would carry us because He said He would.  And, He did.  He is still carrying us, day to day and hour to hour, He carries us.

Memories fall down suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere and catch me unaware.  I remember my dad taking me to Stone Mountain every July 3 for my birthday, sitting beside me the first time I rode on a roller coaster, teaching me to ride a bike, and buying me cotton candy every time we went to a Braves game in Atlanta.  I remember him reading Tom Clancy books for hours and how he got sucked into watching the Gilmore Girls with my mom and me.  I remember watching countless CSI, NCIS, and JAG episodes with him and taking turns solving the crime.  I remember how difficult it was for him to let me go when I graduated from college and wanted to move to Austin, Texas.  So many memories.

I have shed so many tears over the loss of my dad...mostly behind closed doors, even away from my husband and my mom.  I try to be strong, to move forward, but there are some days when I feel like it's everything I can do to hold the shards of my broken self together.  Most of the time I cry when my mind has time to wander and reminisce.  Then, the emotions ease, the sadness wanes, and the tears dry and I remember to focus on what I know.  I KNOW the Lord has a plan.  I KNOW His plan is perfect. I KNOW He loves me and has good things for me.  I KNOW He will carry me and hold me together when the fragile parts of me start to fall apart.  I KNOW He is faithful and constant when everything around me changes.  I KNOW He will use this time to teach me, to deepen my faith, and if I am honored enough, to use my jagged story to touch another.  To that end, I write...