Beautiful Imperfections

As I was mopping my floors today I glanced up at my kitchen windowsill. The paint is peeling and it could use a good scrubbing. At that point, I did what the majority of women do when assessing their house; wonder what other people must think of the sorry looking windowsill. But just as quickly I smiled to myself because I love that window. I love that the paint is cracked and peeling. We live in an old farmhouse that is easily 100 years old. There are things all over the house that attest to it's age. But you know what? That is my favorite thing about it! Can you imagine the things this house has seen? Back in the day, there were probably cows, and pigs and chickens. The barn was probably stacked to the beams with hay and straw. Kids were born and raised, generation after generation by strong women who knew how to run a house without the luxuries of dishwashers and electric stoves. The worn windowsills are just one example of how beautiful imperfections can really be.

I thought about my own imperfections. I am a wreck. I may not have peeling paint, but I do have a lot of blemishes. I use to set up my own rules and laws for myself to make sure I was towing the line. I knew we were called to be like Christ and Christ was perfect so I wanted to make sure I was perfect too. The problem was that perfection is impossible for us humans. I would snap at my husband or be too impatient with my kids and spend the rest of the day in a self-induced prison of guilt. It was a vicious cycle; always trying but never getting there.

It wasn't until someone told me that God loves me just the way I am, flaws and all, that I began to understand just how much He cares for me. I used to think I was only good enough if I was a perfect mom or wife. I thought I had to be the perfect daughter, the perfect friend. When I messed up I thought God was mad at me and turned his face from me. I have slowly learned (why does everything have to be a process?) that I am beautiful to him all the time without exception. The days I get moody and snap at my husband? Beautiful. The days when I get frustrated at my kids because they almost missed the bus? Beautiful. The days I don't feel like doing the laundry? Beautiful! 

Now don't get me wrong, He doesn't want me going around treating my friends and family poorly. Not at all! But I have discovered that when I give myself the freedom to mess up and be ok, I give others that same freedom. We are all a bunch of imperfect people who deserve the freedom to mess up, learn from our mistakes and move on with life.

I have to tell you; I am loved, and I am beautifully imperfect!