Years later, however, I am still
tossing things to the side at the slightest hint of imperfection. My mom calls
it “throwing out the baby with the bath water” (a horrible saying if you ask
me…). One thing out of place and the whole thing goes. It has somehow seeped
into every area of my life, this need for perfection, all my ducks in a row. I'll get this idea in my head about
how something is supposed to be and I can’t let go of it. I’ll keep going until
I attain it. Sometimes this trait of mine is fabulous, and sometimes I find
myself burdened with project after project, trying to perfect all aspects of my
life.
Maybe you’re saying “I’ve been
there”. Or maybe you have just decided that I’m crazy OCD and are about to X
out of my blog and never read it again. Either way, you have been there. Some
more than others, and some even more than that, but we are creatures constantly
searching for perfection. After all, that is what we were created for ultimately. However,
like many things, we attach our perfection to things like clothes, or
relationships, or experiences, social status, the car we drive, our career.
Somehow it seems as if we can just get this one thing right then everything will
be okay.
Here's my slightly embarrassing example of what I'm talking about:
About 5 months ago a very dear
friend of mine got married. As her wedding approached I realized that I didn’t
really have any nice dresses that would work in April. So, my boyfriend agreed
to go with me to look for one. {I must add here that he is
such a brave soul,as any of you who have ever been shopping with me know}.
Anyway we shop for about 2 hours and I still have found nothing that “works for
me”. At this point we have been to H&M exactly 3 times already just to “make sure I
didn’t miss anything”. We make a pit stop at the food court where Eric gets a
pretzel and a lemonade and we sit down so he can eat and I can mope. A few
minutes later after too much time inside my own head, I decide I am done and
want to go home.
On the way home I burst out crying.
Confused and probably exhausted at this point, Eric gently asks me what is
wrong. Then off I go explaining that I never look put together enough and for
once I want to have a dress that everyone is jealous of and that my sister
always looks so cute and next to her I look like a bum. When I am finally
finished, I have reached an epiphany: it’s not about the dress, it’s about this
need I have to feel completely put together in all aspects of my life in order
to impress others and self soothe the emptiness in my heart that only my Savior
can fill.
How many meltdowns will I need to experience before can rely on him
for the restlessness in my soul. He is one patient dude.
