I like being imperfect.
I’m sitting here drinking my once hot caramel mocha and chomping on a red delicious apple as I listen to different songs posted on YouTube. My back’s a little burnt because I went tanning last night for the first time in 4 months. *sigh* My mind is perusing through the past couple days: Sunday I went to an ice cream restaurant and bought a fish sandwich. Monday I wore mis-matching socks inside my boots to work. Tuesday I ate sour patch kids for breakfast. Today I wore a very bright, neon yellow sweater to work… it matches nothing, and sticks out like an extremely sore thumb.
I’m so completely opposite of being perfect.
I mean, I couldn’t possibly be any further from it…
I often wish I was a little more creative and spontaneous. I wish I would’ve kept up with my drawings – I used to be quite good. I wish I would’ve actually been a little more determined to learn how to play the violin all those years ago. I wish I would have pursued cosmetology school like I planned to do in my senior year of high school. I wish I would’ve went sky diving when I was in Vegas – or at least swam with the dolphins, despite the ridiculous toll it would have taken on my bank account. I wish I would have paid more attention in my creative writing classes.
These thoughts always cross through my mind when I find some creative blog, or stumble across someone’s flickr album filled up with the most amazing pictures. Oh, and those Sassyfras sisters *deep sigh* …they’re amazing. Whenever I read a good quote I say “man, I wish I could have said that…” Whenever I come across a Picasso painting (or look-alike) I wonder why my scribbles aren’t making millions. Sometimes I wish my sense of humor wasn’t so weird… or hidden. Ha. I watch amateur YouTube music videos and tell myself that I could write songs like that if I just tried.
Maybe it’s the lack of time that holds me back. Maybe it’s discouragement, thinking that nothing will ever come of it anyways. Perhaps the fear of failure; I don’t want to look stupid; what will people think? Maybe, maybe, maybe…
And then I read in my Bible this morning…
I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.
My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them.
How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!
If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand: when I awake, I am still with thee.
~ Psalm 139:14-18
I think I like being imperfect. I like that I fail from time to time. I think I like not being as talented as I might wish to be. I like that I have to work for things and force myself to do other things. I’m glad everything doesn’t come easy to me. I’m glad there are things I want to do in my life – because, seriously, what’s really left for you if you can sit back and say “I’ve done it all”…? (okay, besides dying.)
I like being exactly who God created me to be… me.
Is there anything you really want to do? What’s holding you back?