The pages of history
They tell me it’s true
That it’s never the perfect
It’s always the ones with the scars that You use
It’s the rebels and the prodigals
It’s the humble and the weak
All the misfit heroes You chose
Tell me there’s hope for sinners like me
So many of us get stuck on the idea of perfection that we miss the little things. The little things that make us who we are. None of us are perfect and perfection is something we will never attain in this life. For if we are perfect and we have no room to grow, then God has no room to grow in us. As long as we have pieces out of place we will have a space for God to work in our lives.
You may be thinking “whoa AJ, I didn’t come here for this….” My friend you did, you need someone to tell you that it’s ok to not be perfect. You my friend have bought into the lie that is social media. No one’s home or children or they themselves are instagram ready 24/7 365. What you view on the daily isn’t real. What you view on the daily was created to sell you a lie that you need to be perfect in order to live your best life.
Life happens outside of social media. Life happens when we least expected. And yes there will be bad days, but one day you will see those days, those moments as blessings. For the bad days they make the good days worth it. Keep in mind friend God knows you, yes he knows you inside and out. He knows that he can bring you to it because you are going to get through it. It may not seem like that in the moment, but once you are on the other side you’ll look back in awe.
History tells me that God does not choose the perfect. He seeks out the misfits, the prodigals and the weak. He seeks out the ones who have room for him to grow in them. He looks for the ones with the scars, the ones with the broken crown, and the ones who have a story to tell. That story is powerful, that story is your journey and no one can tell it like you.
I am broken. I have scars a plenty. Bruises they fade but the memories they stay. I have been broken more times than I can count. I know what it’s like to carry life. I have heard the most sorrow of words, “I’m sorry but there is no heart beat.” To have my womb carry life while it silently turned into a tomb. I carried my sons, my sons who were to beautiful for this earth. For some reason God placed that on my path not once, but three times. God, he chooses the strongest women to be the mother to angels. For they know what it’s like to live fully with a broken heart. For they know what awaits them on the other side.
I used to ask God “why me? Haven’t you given me enough trials?” Now I instead ask “why NOT me? What’s next?” When my perspective shifted my life, it began to fall in place. When I started to look at things through the lens of humility my heart softened. When I stopped sweating the small stuff and making mountains out of mole hills, I found peace. When I stopped comparing myself to others, I found joy. This is my journey and my faith and there isn’t another journey like it. God created this time line for me and me only.
He can break me at his will, bring me to my knees all while rearranging me for what’s next. I no longer strive to be perfect, perfection means I have no room to grown and if I have no room to grow how is God going to grow me. Perfection means you are six feet under ground and kneeling at the throne. Perfection means you are ready for your seat in heaven. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to stay a little longer, I’d like to keep on living and growing just as God intended for me.