Over the weekend we were talking about the Christmas concert at church. Before they started the pastor made an announcement that things could be a bit messy, joyfully messy – there were little kids, big kids, and with that anything could happen.
There was a comment that he had to say such things because someone would be sure to call and complain that it wasn’t a traditional concert, that it wasn’t perfect.
My cousin said something to the effect that people miss so much when they expect perfection, and hat when things are imperfect is when the real joy is to be found.
Isn’t that the truth?
If we spend our lives seeking perfection, we miss out on the joy that is imperfectly there, right in front of us. Nothing we as humans do is ever going to be perfect. We will waste our entire time here chasing an impossible dream.
This morning I had a text from a cousin telling me to make sure I looked at the moon. As the boy and I were driving down the road I pulled over and had to stop and look at it. It was probably the best morning moon I’ve ever seen. The camera does not do it justice.
And somehow we went from that perfect moment of joy to a huge fight. We yelled at each other for the next few minutes (doesn’t matter what it was about, it was stupid) and then came over the next hill and had to stop and enjoy this gift from God
It was a perfectly imperfect morning. Perfect in the beauty God created for us, perfect in that we took the time to enjoy it. Imperfect in that we fought over stupid things. Perfect that we realized we were being stupid and missing a moment of joy.
Remembering that it’s not only ok but a good thing to be perfectly imperfect. My moment of happiness.