Posted in indigo inspiration, Living Water, Thanks for the memories

Jesus was lost in the forest.

He knew where He was.  But I didn’t.

I would fault myself for that but I’m not doing that anymore.  What good comes of my present self disparaging my past self for not having grown to my current-ness?  I deserve to be treated better than that.  Especially from myself.  I am treasured by Divinity.

Growth is the desire.  Perfection is not.  The pursuit of perfection hunts down growth and locks it in a tower.  The need for perfection trapped me in its incomplete clutches.  I couldn’t see the forest through the trees.  I had to be perfect.  I had to win life.  I had to be enough for everyone and everything that perfection had required in my life.

But guess what?  That’s not sustainable.  That’s not real.  That’s not even good.

And since the trees were blocking Jesus in the forest, I was lost too.  He doesn’t want my perfection.  He wants my sidling up next to Him.  He wants the little children scrambling onto His lap.  Where’s the perfection in that?  It’s clumsy.  And awkward.  And ungraceful.

And exactly what it’s supposed to be.  Indescribably beautiful.  Real.  And unaffected.  Artlessly primed for organic growth.  For becoming less scaffolding and more architecture.  For shedding expectations in favor of substance.  Not a vague assumed substance dictated by some culture and my imperfect heart, but the unshakeable confidence that I am loved.  The strength of knowing that I am securely wanted.  That all my ungrown imperfection is on a discovery expedition.  Rather than taking a perpetual exam.  I proctored that test for years. The manual kept getting fatter and more unwieldy.  The requirements began to contradict each other.  I suffocated under the weight of the roles of both defendant and judge.

Meanwhile, Jesus is in the forest, among the trees, telling me to climb into His lap with my grubby fingers and tangled hair.  He is not lost in the Scriptures behind the verses.  We are playing Marco Polo these days.  The sunlight filters between the boughs and shadows dance on our faces.  The shadows scare me sometimes but He squeezes my hand, tells me I’m safe, and shows me the transient beauty of the moment.

And if I lose Him again in the trees, He has not lost me.

Advertisements

Author:

I rock. I also paper and scissors.

One thought on “Jesus was lost in the forest.

  1. Love this! (And you!)
    Perfectionism has long been my nemesis, although for many years I thought she was my friend. Then I began to realize she robbed me of joy and left me with insatiable pride and frustration. My faith, rendered ineffective was replaced by relentless fear. My love, dry and shriveled gave way to performance, leaving me exhausted and empty. Then I understood it was the same voice from the garden, who said to Eve, ” You shall be like God.” It is a lie, perfectionism is a mirage, and a deadly one, for me and those who live with me. Although I am an image bearer of God, I was never created to carry that weight of responsibility or to live up to some expected performance. I was created for His glory, to be loved by Him and reflect His love to others. And even when I do it imperfectly I believe it delights Him much more than my striving for perfection, and the dependence (on Him) I used to deny and despise actually brings Him glory and me peace. Ha! Who would have thought?!
    One last thing, Jesus isn’t behind the scriptures, He IS the word of God. But, try this: don’t read scripture looking for what you are supposed to do (the way my performance oriented self would read). Instead actively look for what He has already done, is doing, will do and who He is. Wow! He is hidden in plain sight and He is magnificent!

    Like

Come on. Let it out. You know you want to.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s