The Pursuit of Perfection

I'm a perfectionist.  There; I said it.  I crave order and balance and reason in my life, and I can't stand for things to be out of place.  I'm a compulsive stacker of papers, rearranger of the pantry and lover of all things symmetrical.  When I had roommates and shared a bathroom, I could tell when someone borrowed my shampoo because the bottle would be turned around a different way the next time I got in.  Okay, so maybe I have OCD.  I digress.

This { undeniably fruitless } pursuit of perfection affects not only my physical life, but my spiritual life as well.  It wasn't until I went on a women's retreat a few years ago that I realized that God loves me and wants to use me right where I am.  Not when I'm who I think I should be, not who I'm striving to be, not who I project to be... but the real me.  Right here.  Right now.

With the start of a new year just over the horizon, I find myself thinking of all the things I'll do better in 2011.  Spencer and I are going to read through the Bible together with one of those chronological "read the whole thing in 365 days" schedules. { See?  Structure. } I'm going to find a mentor, eat more vegetables, try my hand at running again, wear sunscreen every day.  And in the endless tasks of list-making and trying to find my bootstraps and will myself into this unattainable perfection... I came across a blog post that spoke straight to my soul.

Going back.
By John Acuff

Someday, I need to go to Africa.

My uncle Bill helped start a school in Kenya that I want to visit. More than 480 students attend the school where they get housing, three meals a day, clothing and an education. A large percentage of the children that attend are victims of the AIDS crisis that is ravaging Africa. One couple who are friends with my uncle adopted a young girl there who was born HIV positive. Typically, if there is going to be an adoption of this type, it happens when the child is still a baby. But this little girl had been passed over and spent the first 5 years of her life waiting to be adopted.

When the couple came to speak at my dad’s church, the father said something interesting about the little girl. He said “We kept hoping that she would be disobedient and break the rules.” As a young father, I have to confess this hope has never crossed my mind with my own children. Just this morning when I was leaving the house, my five-year-old was yelling at my seven-year-old for tricking her. My oldest daughter likes to wake up first and will usually Mission Impossible her way downstairs quietly before my youngest daughter wakes up. This morning, because they’re sharing a room with our family in town, L.E. had to take a different route and told McRae, “You should snuggle all your dolls.” Then while McRae enjoyed a sister inspired moment with her dolls, L.E. bolted for the stairs, leaving McRae in her dust.

In general, rule breaking is not something I wish for in our house. It seems like a strange thing for any father to hope for, but the father who adopted the orphan had a reason.
“When we first adopted her, she tried her hardest to be perfect. This little six year old girl was terrified that if she broke the rules she would be kicked out of our family and sent back to the orphanage. For her, breaking the rules would be a sign that she was comfortable and was no longer living in fear.”

I’ve talked about this idea before, but it felt right today because we are on the precipice of a new season of perfect. It’s December 29. In less than 72 hours, we’ll have a chance to make a fresh start in a fresh year. The calendar will declare a do over, a new day in a new month and a new decade to live better and be better and try harder.

I know I can’t be perfect. Past failures have made that crystal clear, but I still try sometimes. I still try to hold my breath and white knuckle my way back into the father’s arms. Creating lists, manically measuring my quiet times, doing the yo-yo diet version of faith. I don’t want to fail. I want to be perfect.

I want to free myself from the mess, clean my act up and string together a good solid month, of good solid living before I return to the God. But I’m not sure that is how God sees my life. In Psalm 103: 3-4, God is described as he “who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with compassion.”

The word I love in that passage is “from.” On the surface it’s a transition word, but the reality is that “from” represents the difference between man and God. In the world, when you fall into a pit, you’re expected to get back out. You dug it yourself, you climb out of it yourself. Get yourself together. Straighten up. Don’t bring me a problem, bring me a solution. In every job you’ve ever had and most of the relationships you’ve been in, this verse would read, “who redeems your life after the pit.”

But in God’s world, He comes to the pit. He redeems us from the pit. Not once we’ve managed to get out of it, but from the middle of it. From the deepest part of the pit. He gets down with us in the pit and rescues us from it. Not after it.

I’m sure that little girl in Kenya has failed at this point, that’s kind of one of the things we all do. But I’m sure that when she shared that failure with her father, he didn’t return her to the orphanage. Why?

Because rescue is a one way trip.

There will be no going back.

Whether she fails a 100 times or a million times, that decision was already made.

For you, for me, for all the imperfect people.

2010: The Year In Review

2010 has been quite a year.  I married my best friend, found { fought and will keep fighting! } skin cancer, had my fifteen minutes of reality TV "fame," took on quite a few new responsibilities at work { here's to hoping I don't screw any of it up in 2011 }... and then there were things that we all experienced together.  Like Antoine Dodson.  Learning what a vuvuzela is.  And the continued miracle of Google Search.

Wonder what the top things searched on Google for 2010 actually were?  It makes for quite an accurate review of the year.  Enjoy!

Grandude. The one and only.

Papa.  Grandpa.  These are normal names for a grandfather.  But my sister and I were fortunate enough to have had one just a little different: the one and only... Grandude.  { He and Grandmomma went to the beach with us once when we were little, he wore a cowboy hat, and the name stuck.  Grandude it was. }

{ We were seriously buds. }

Mom is an only child, thus Kates and I were his only two grandchildren.  And, of course, he spoiled us rotten.   I owe probably half my embarrassingly extensive childhood Barbie collection to this man.  And the Christmas I turned four and got the pink Power Wheels Barbie Corvette { complete with now-old-school-then-super-cool console cell phone, natch }?  I proceeded to back over his foot in the living room and he didn't bat an eye.

Grandude let me and Katie have Easter Egg Hunts in the yard all year long.  And we're still finding sun-faded plastic eggs now decades later.  He'd walk with me to take my pretend friend Sodey { Sodie? I don't know, I couldn't spell when I was four and I'm not so good at it now } to the "bus stop" aka the corner.  And once, when a man at the airport asked me how I'd know who was my grandaddy when he got off of the plane, I told the man it was because Grandude could take his teeth out.  { What?  That's an unusually identifiable characteristic when you're four! }

So you see, the man is a legend in his own right.  I always said I didn't know what I'd do without him.  He was invincible in my mind; even though he was famous for saying, "You know, I ain't gon' be around here always."  And he was right.

Four years ago today he went to be with Jesus.  And when I do the same one day, I can't help but think that our reunion will look something like this:

But I'm sure I'll know it's him without the removing of teeth. : )

It's A Wrap!

I loved working at Hallmark in high school.  So much so, that today when I go to the grocery store and pass through the section of greeting cards { Hallmark Expressions at Kroger is not quite the same thing as the real Hallmark, for the record }, I have a tendency to stop and straighten the cards.  I just can't help it.

{ And then there was that time a ten point buck jumped through our front window and chased sweet Ms. Virginia into the stockroom.  Jayne's Hallmark was always an adventure. }

But by far, the favorite remnant of my high school career is a love for gift wrap. { Plus, it's a lot less inconvenient than a subconscious need to straighten cards }.  I get such satisfaction out of a beautifully wrapped gift, and I honestly think that even the smallest gifts are made more valuable in the presentation.  If someone's first impression of the gift is that you took the care and time to present it well... first impressions are lasting!

Last Christmas, my team at the office asked for Gift Wrap 101.  They asked me for a few of the links again this year, so I thought I'd share them with y'all as well.  Here's to beautiful presents!

Gift Wrap 101

• Buy good paper.  Cheap wrapping paper will tear and make for more work and more waste than if you'd bought the better stuff to begin with.  A sure sign of good paper?  Look for grid lines on the back.  It'll help you cut straight, which also cuts down on waste.  And it doesn't have to be expensive.  Check the square footage of rolls when comparing prices.  A roll may be less expensive on its own, but a slightly more expensive one might wrap twice as much.
• I buy almost all of my wrapping paper at Hobby Lobby. { And earlier this month, Hallmark did a promotion where if you bought one roll, the second was $0.99.  Score! }

• Be gentle with the curling ribbon.  There's nothing worse than uneven ringlets or a store-bought curlicue that's lost its sticky.  The less pressure you put on the scissors when curling, the looser the curls will be.
• Overdo it?  No problem.  Just turn the ribbon over and gently run the scissors over the reverse and it should loosen the curls.  { Be careful not to bear down too hard, though, or you'll wear the ridges completely off and it will be stuck straight. }

• Tulle is for more than weddings and tutus.  I make tulle bows for everything!  Just trying a it like you tie your shoes makes for a fluffy bow that will even survive shipping across the country.  Want more loops?  Just have extra long ends and keep tying like you tie your shoes over and over until you run out of length.  Tulle bows work well with large or small presents, they stay up without having a wired edge, and they definitely don't break the bank!
• Michael's and Hobby Lobby carry spools of tulle in the wedding section, but their color selection isn't the greatest.  I order mine online from http://www.tullesource.com/.  I love the 6" width, and you get 25 yards for $1.99!  Order yourself a good assortment and you'll be set for months.
• This was the biggest part of the little Lunch & Learn we had at work.  I'll do a follow-up post with more specific step-by-step instructions and pictures if anyone is interested.  Just comment.

{ Just one little corner of our happy little tree. }

• Who needs gift tags!  Have multiple gifts for one person?  Tired of spending money on gift tags?  Or, as Spencer and I are facing this year, having trouble differentiating which gift is for whose Mom or whose Dad?  Here's a solution: just select a particular pattern of paper or a certain color ribbon to identify what goes with whom.  That way, when you leave for the in-laws, you can just grab all of the green ones and go!

• Select a signature paper for birthdays and other occasions.  I got tired of having half a roll of fourteen patterns of wrapping paper on hand and never actually having enough to wrap the one gift I needed to.  So, I bought a ton of black and white damask paper { at Hobby Lobby, of course } and now I use it for everything.  Hot pink and lime green tulle bows for birthdays, light blue for wedding gifts... even red and green for Christmas.  Buying in bulk also saves you from the last minute panic of an empty roll.  Whatever you choose, just look for something simple and versatile.

Now, if I can just convince my husband that I need one of these... happy wrapping!

{ Wrapping Cart by Ballard Designs }

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Happy big 6-0 to the man I've loved longer than any other - my dad.

He lulled me to sleep by singing "Little GTO" and the Boy Scouts' "Trail the Eagle" because he didn't know any lullabies.  Daddy's never been one to try and be something he's not.  He's the man who taught me important life skills, like riding a bike { sweet shorts, by the way }...

... and the proper use of firearms.  Not to mention making sure that I knew what he would do with a firearm should any unworthy male suitor make any sudden moves.  { Good thing Spencer passed the test. }

He's the one who gave me my sense of humor and the way that my cheeks stick out and my eyes close when I smile too big { although strangely I do not posses his ability to speak cat }.

And he taught be how to be Southern. { An important thing in this girl's life. }

And of course he showed me what to do when giant redwood trees are falling out of the sky.  { Stand there and scream like a damsel in distress while the boys try to hold it up, duh. }

A third generation Bulldog, my dad worked his way through college living in someone's basement in Athens.  He tells stories about living off of Dinty Moore Beef Stew and working all day just to come home and study all night.  { At least he says he studied all night. :) }  I was never more proud than to ask him to walk me onto the field for Homecoming...

 ... until the day he walked me down the aisle.

One year for Father's Day, when I was young and Katie was still just a baby, my mom snuck out of bed late at night to cross-stitch a surprise.  I didn't understand it then { I fixated on the little mallards flying all around the border }, but I'll never forget what it says:

Any man can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a Daddy.

You're someone special for sure, Daddy.  Happy birthday!

PS - Thanks for not letting mom name me Merry Carol.  PTL for the paternal veto.  I love you!