I remember simple days.

Lazy mornings.

Ideas that included minimal planning.

I was me. Myself.

And I was fine with that.

Sure I had imperfections. Issues, even.

But I could sweep them under my little rug, shrug them off with a smile and go on with my day with no more thought of them than of a spec of dust on the floor.

I could, on some sunny, fun-filled days, pretend that they didn’t exist. (or if they had, I had beaten them and they were no longer an “issue”)

And then.




Suddenly, all those little weaknesses, those imperfections, those…issues, came back with a swarming, swooping, vengeance.

Little blemishes blew up to be huge, gaping holes in my character.

Weaknesses I knew thought I had under control would suddenly rear up and bite me when I least expected it.

Sometimes, I don’t like being a mom. Putting all my hope and trust and love and care and devotion into another human being and then stepping back and watching that little human take those attributes and, along with their own character, make what they will of their own life is a hard, HARD task for me to continue to undertake.

Because along with the good, they will take some of the bad. And I’ve got a LOT of the bad to pass along. (all the junk I thought I had under control? oh yeah. it’s not. it was just sitting there, growing and festering….like one of those leftover casseroles in the back of the fridge.)

The pressure is tough. I don’t want to taint my child’s life. I don’t want this road, this family, this choice to be a bad one for them OR for me.

Having children is not only about them, it’s about me, too. It’s about understanding who I am and growing and learning and understanding, and when I’ve gained that understanding, it’s about asking for forgiveness.

For who I am.

For who I’m not.

Because in doing so, I can turn these flaws into excellence by learning about who I want to be, and then taking steps (trust me, they are itty bitty teeny tiny steps) in the right direction.

This is all I can do.

And since this is all He has asked of me

It is enough.

So I will continue to be refined and to attain a greater purity in myself, and in doing so, will hopefully be able to bring out these positive types of qualities in those around me.

Maybe, only maybe, this will help me squash those stealthy weaknesses that sneak up on me (mostly in the evenings) so I can go to bed with a clear conscious and a smile on my face.

Or I should at least get a few brownie points for saying, “holy cow” instead of, well, something less appropriate, and then a few more points for NOT smacking my 8-year-old when he points out that in this country, cows aren’t holy.




3 thoughts on “Imperfections

  1. Never forget it is good for your kids to realize you are not Perfect. (Gasp) Kids tend to think we are and it places a huge burden on them in some ways. I recently had a conversation with my grown children about some things in my past life, and they were all at first taken aback, and then relieved. They have responded for the most part with an outpouring of love to me and their dad.
    It is our attempt to do better that counts. If our children believe there is an impossibly high standard they have to reach they will be frustrated and eventually turn away. But to know that we in our imperfections are still trying to do and be better and that they can do the same gives a feeling of hope and possibility. They are going to need to ask for forgiveness many times in their lives–we all do–and to see it modeled by their parents is very powerful. I think you should get the whole pan of brownie points, you are just great!

  2. I always thought I was a pretty calm, nice person. You, know, once I grew up and stopped fighting with my siblings. I thought it was all in my past. And then I had kids. And yet, sometimes, my kids and I fight. Because they’re all at least as stubborn as I am. Sigh.

  3. Oh yeah. My 8-year-old is so much like me it’s scary. I think I’m a little bit harder on him because of it and I don’t want him to make the same STUPID mistakes that I made as a kid!

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