The Saga of Perfectionism
I’m learning that love trumps my idealistic expectations. Being perfect is a myth. God continues to chip away at this antagonist and He’s using Renie to do it.
We turned Renie’s expansive kitchen into a salon the afternoon we decided to color each other’s hair. The teen daughter got into the act and set up all her nail supplies on the kitchen table with choices of bright colors and designs.
I am going to market this!
I wondered how to section Renie’s long curly locks and asked: “Renie, how am I going to color your roots?” She hunted in drawers until she found two clothespins to suffice. Funny thing is, they worked!
I relaxed when her daughter soaked my hands in warm sudsy water and I closed my eyes. I should have kept them closed. Renie especially should have kept hers closed when her grown up baby girl knocked over the polish remover spilling Acetone all over the table. I sigh and think to myself: “I’m glad we’re doing this in her kitchen and not mine!”
Someday I’m going to make it big. I will spend my time in salons being pampered by licensed professionals where classy music plays softly in the background and they serve you glass goblets filled with water and sliced lemons atop. I’ll have lots of money and leave big tips. For now, though, I have some lessons to learn here in Hicksville.
Until that day…
I remind myself that I’m affirmed, supported and validated just as I am. Thanks to Jesus I don’t have to strive for perfection. I can laugh at myself. And I can laugh at life!
Mistakes and messes…I can adjust. I’m getting there slowly. Very slowly. Oh, so slowly.
Going on a Date
We dressed to go out on the town and I fanned my fingers showing the cute guy my bright nails with the classy doodads. He said: “You are going to take all that off, right?” Why did he say that to me, his chic date?
Better yet, why did I remove it all?
Maybe a little perfectionism is still okay.
How are you at rolling with the punches? Does it disturb you when things get out of control?