I scrolled through Facebook the other night before bed. Jeremy was gone. The house was quiet. And I literally found myself saying out loud, “So and so is so perfect. And so is she. And she. Why am I so not perfect?”
Y’all, I named names. Outloud. In our house. The jealousy and frustration were literally boiling over.
I’ve spent the last couple days cleaning vomit and giving medicine and wiping noses. All while feeling like death myself.
And far, far from those “perfect” pictures I let seep into my mind and harden my heart.
The root…I haven’t spent much time with Him lately. I haven’t heard Him remind me of His love. I haven’t cried out to Him and let Him comfort me.
Lately Jesus’ perfect life hasn’t seemed like enough for my imperfect one.
“When Jesus is gracious to us, why would we be cruel to ourselves.” (Ann Voskamp)
Admitting I’m not perfect is one thing. But condemning myself when I’ve been justified is another.
He was perfect so I don’t have to be. He sees me and loves me…grace upon grace.
“He remembered that they were but flesh, a wind that passes and comes not again.” (Psalm 78:39)
“Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:5-8)