Wednesday, November 10, 2010
In many things, I have been satisfied only when they meet a certain level of perfection. If it is imperfect, even mildly, such as a stray line on a drawing, improper grammar in a belabored sentence, dust in a deep crevice, I have difficulty finding joy in the finished work. I am compelled to erase, rework, dig deeper, even if I have been mildly rebuked to simply let it go.
God has been working in me to find the beauty in these imperfections, though. He teaches me, slowly but surely, how to move on after He has forgiven me of my sin. He teaches me that the blue painted mug with a few mis-strokes of paint that I created still has the capacity to hold my hot tea and that the blemishes hold no baring on its purpose. But perhaps what speaks most loudly to me is finding joy in my imperfect legs.
It is easy to me to find joy in my legs. They are strong. They are useful. They daily help me to achieve my goal, not just in getting from place to place, but being able to experience the freedom of running. I would not trade them for anyone else's. They are the ones that carried me 26.2 miles. They are the ones that not only put up with my abuse of training day in and day out, but they got stronger because of it. They did not melt under pressure. They did not feign injury. They simply took the challenge...and ran.
But my legs are far from perfect. They have parts that are too fleshy. They like to store fat in places I really wish they would not. Cellulite, yes, they have allowed it to reside in that place just below the skin, and right on the front of my thighs for everyone else to see. The beginnings of spider veins begin to spread their tentacles over my muscular calves. But although they are far from perfect, I cannot reject them. I cannot lament their short-comings, for they have proven themselves worthy of the task. Their devotion is fierce. Their strength is tried, tested, resilient.
I have come to the conclusion that perhaps if I, of all people, can learn to love something like my cellulite-ridden legs, God can love me despite my own character flaws. Because although I am far from perfect, He has promised not to reject me. He does not stand by and scoff at my short-comings, but rather He fills me with His grace and makes perfect my weakness. He knows that I am surrendered to Him, that my allegiance is with Him alone. He knows I have been tried. I have been tested. I am fighting the good fight and together, we will win the race.
I'm linking up with Dayle at Simple Pleasures.