I wanted Christmas break to be a time of relaxation and rejuvenation, but it simply has not been. This break has been more exhausting than anything because my days have been dictated by being mad and frustrated... at myself.
I cannot meet the expectations that I have for myself. I measure myself against perfection and these days perfection seems like a foreign concept.
I know that I will never be perfect. I know that God does not expect perfection. I know that Jesus is perfect. But even though I "know" all of that... I surely have not been living like that.
And it has made my heart a little dry and my soul a little sore.
I am supposed to have it all together. I am supposed to be all smiles all day. I am supposed to be a good gift giver. I am supposed to love selflessly. I am supposed to show Christ to my family. I am supposed to be the social planner. I am supposed to know how I feel. I am supposed to always be on the go. I am supposed to be encouraging to others. I am supposed to read my Bible everyday. I am supposed to have it all together. I am supposed to be optimistic all the time. I am supposed to have a lot of friends. I am supposed to be fearless. I am supposed to be patient. I am supposed to be wise. I am supposed to show everyone grace. I am supposed to live out of honest and vulnerable places. I am supposed to be............. perfect.
But I am not.
Quite frankly, I do not know if I have perfected a single one of those things these days... or if I have even half-way succeeded.
Rather these days of "break" have consisted of a watered-down version of myself that is tired and sick... a version that is irritable and sad and anxious and not very nice. It's a version that's fire for Jesus seems like a bonfire that is slowly dying.
And if there is one thing that I am definitely not good at, it is showing myself grace.
But today, I am putting my foot down. I am choosing to show myself some grace and I am choosing to not measure myself against a mark of perfection... a perfection that I will never reach.
Instead of staring at my own imperfections and all of the places that I am falling short these days, I am choosing to sit at the foot of the cross. I am choosing to hand Jesus all of the broken pieces that make up my life and give them to Him.
So I'm embarking on the process of letting my tired heart heal and rest.
It is going to be a process, but it's starting today... in a little coffee shop on Tate Street... at a table that is shaped like a coffee mug (I think Jesus knows me really well).
So I'm showing myself some grace today with a little latte.