Acceptable Over Optimal

As a perfectionist, I am all about optimizing. I really do want the best all of the time, or at least most of the time. I continue to realize, though, that this is not possible, not unless I really drop a lot of things, and even then, I cannot achieve perfection.

I have started to think, therefore, about what is acceptable, tolerable even. What is good enough? Can I learn to be satisfied with just okay? And if not, what needs to go so I can improve? For example, do I want dinner on the dot at the time I want? Or do I want the kitchen tidied and cleaned so that I can focus on making dinner and enjoying eating it? Do I want all homemade food and lots of time in the kitchen? Or do I want okay nutrition which includes some processed foods and time to do things other than cook? If optimal sleep is not available, what is acceptable? What will get me through?

I am not for giving everything the short end of the stick. There is some wisdom in the phrase my mom told me in college: "You have to cheat something." I'm not suggesting that I want to be dishonest. I'm just continuing to realize that there are only so many resources to go around (time, money, etc.). If I have many things I want to do, I have to lower the resources needed for each one. If I have a few things I want to invest in more, I have to let other things go. It's a balancing game, or maybe not even a balancing game. It's a choices game.

I definitely don't have all this figured out. I'm just trying to figure out what I can accept, what I can tolerate without it causing me so much distress. Optimal ain't happening much over here, so I've got to figure out how to accept and appreciate what is!

Underneath the Couch

We had to move our couches this weekend. Pushing them to the side exposed big, nasty piles of dust and debris, along with a few "lost" items. Quite frankly, I felt embarrassed. I pride myself on keeping a clean house (which might be part of the problem), and this made me feel like a failure. Indeed, yes, if a perfectly clean house is the goal, I had failed. Failure left me feeling icky.

As I reasoned with myself, though, I reasoned that it is unwise to move the couches every week to clean under them. It is unwise for physical reasons, and for time reasons. I am not really strong enough to move couches, so I could get injured, and it doesn't make sense to spend the time it would take every week. Not moving the couches, though, leaves me needing to reckon with the mess.

I reckon that the mess reminds me that I am not perfect. The mess reminds me that something good enough has to be good enough. The mess reminds me that everyone has stuff they cover up. Sometimes it's good to look under the couch. Sometimes it's not.

Looking under the couch might look like getting real and vulnerable with friends or family about struggles. That happened in conjunction with the couch moving. I was at a near breaking point and had to talk to my mom about it. When she and my dad came down to help, she also saw the mess under the couches. Life is like that sometimes. It exposes our stuff. 

There are times are not good to look under a couch, too. Times I need to run out the door. Times when moments are limited. Times I need to invest in friends and family rather than navel-gazing. Times when my ego-strength is not strong enough to endure more introspection. Times that just aren't "right."

In my home and in my life, there were always be stuff "under the couch." It takes wisdom to know when to look and when not to look. It takes trust in God's sovereignty to deal with the stuff that emerges when I am not looking. May God grant both, as I am sure I will have many more opportunities in this life to see what's "underneath the couch."

Why I Sometimes Choose to Do Hard Things

I have to do hard things, like things I am not good at. Sometimes they're just a flop. Sometimes I fail, like really fail.  Sometimes I surprise myself and actually succeed. But I have to do them. Why? In short, It's good for me.

I always need to be learning and growing and progressing. (If I don't, I'm stagnant.) Hard things require me to risk a little, to reach further. I'm not saying that I try to be a pro. I'm just trying to grow.

I need fun in my life. I need to play. I need to be silly, to be an amateur. Life is so serious. There are plenty of hard, hard things that I don't choose. Choosing a few hard things...for fun is a good reminder that hard things are not all bad.

I am also a terrible perfectionist. Try as I might to grow out of it, it always crops up its ugly head. Trying hard things, and failing, forces me to practice my coping skills. It forces me to accept the imperfections. Sometimes my trying really yields an okay result, but I am not satisfied. I have to learn to live with this reality. There is room for self-critique, and growth, but sometimes, I just need to accept things.

So when it comes to hard things, what kind of things am I talking about? Here's a short list of some hard things that I choose to do for my own good (or at least most of the time, for my own good):

• Training for and running races
• The monthly baking challenge from Sally's Baking Recipes
• Weekly Yogi See Yogi Do Crew poses
• Writing (e.g. this blog)

I am not really good at any of these things. In fact, all of them expose my imperfections. All of them grow me, too though (at least right now). I get some joy out of these hard things. When I nail them (or get close-remember, there isn't perfect), I am ecstatic. And hopefully, the world gets something out of watching me, and God gets the glory for that. After all, Christ chose to do the hardest thing, die on the cross for the sins of the world, out of love. That's a kind of love worth emulating, worth choosing, but SO hard!

The Perspective Loss Provides

I am watching a lot of friends, family, and acquaintances lose loved ones. A lot of people are now living without their spouses. I see the pain they process on a frequent basis. Observing this loss gives me perspective.

If I am honest, I get frustrated with my husband way, way too often. I have very high (probably unrealistic and potentially unreasonable) expectations for myself, and by proxy, sometimes place those on him, which doesn't go well. While my husband is not perfect, he shows me a lot of grace. I, for so many of my own reasons, struggle to do the same. I am not proud of this, and I am also not ashamed to admit it. This is reality.

Loss is also a reality. While I have no reason to anticipate losing my husband any time soon, I also have no guarantees of how long God will allow us both to live. That should inform my treatment of him. That should influence my appreciation of my husband. It should affect how hard I work at my marriage.

Fear is not a good motivator. Reality, however, is. The reality is that each day is a gift. The reality is that I may not get tomorrow with my husband, or anyone else. That reality reminds me to count my blessings, to give thanks to God and to others, to live right now. Reality gives me perspective, for this present moment, and hopefully for as many future days as the Lord chooses to give me.

Everything is Out of Control!

I've been feeling like a failure as a wife off and on now for awhile. I just can't seem to meet my husband's needs the way I think I should. (He hasn't complained to me yet, however.) I've felt like a failure at work because I am not meeting productivity standards. I've felt like a failure as a Christian because I seem to struggle and struggle and can never seem to be content. I've doubted my salvation. There was the hike where I completely missed the boat when it came to finding the group I wanted to join. The many weeks when I didn't stick to my pre-set grocery budget. The times I didn't get dinner done at a reasonable hour. How I feel my body is failing me because of how fatigued I've been. The rain that rescheduled our company picnic. Getting rained out of running. Paper in the washer that made laundry that much more difficult and time-consuming. And now this corona virus and how I feel I've failed to adequately prepare our household because I haven't stocked up on non-perishables and other goods. Basically, I have a really high set of expectations for myself and I've failed, all of them. Everything seems out of control.

And yet. I believe that God is trying to teach me something through all of this. He is stripping away everything where I feel I should have control and showing me that I literally have no control. He is reminding me that my stress and anxiety serve no purposes other than to further tire and exhaust me. He is reminding me that my worth lies in Him and Him alone. He is reminding me that I have absolutely no success without Him. 

Oh, Lord, I believe. I believe that you made me. I believe that my worth comes from you. I believe that you are my sufficiency. I believe that you are my provider. I believe that you have preordained my days. Everything is out of my control, but I believe that everything is in yours. Oh, Lord, help my unbelief.

Go in the Strength You Have.

Life is a lot sometimes. And it just seems to throw at us more than we can take. Sometimes the things that come are consequences of our own sin. Sometimes they are consequences of the sins of others. And sometimes, they're consequences of the sinful world we live in. And they're all hard.

It's easy to do what I deem sitting in a puddle and crying. Life is overwhelming and we just want to quit. But that's not necessarily a godly or beneficial response. The best thing to do is to put one foot in front of the other and do the best we can.

Sometimes the best you can looks like getting out of bed in the morning. Sometimes it looks like taking a shower, getting dress, eating. Sometimes it looks like confessing sin to others, to apologizing to those you've hurt, to making amends. Often, it looks like doing things other people don't understand and having to be okay with it.

Life is a journey and sometimes timing doesn't make sense. But as Dr. Colleen Reichmann says, "Just because you're taking longer than others doesn't mean that you've failed." Healing is hard. Healing takes time. Recovery requires effort, and sometimes all we have to give is all we have to give. We just have to do the next right thing.

As God said to Gideon, sometimes we have to "go in the strength [we] have" (Judges 6:14) and trust that it is enough. Not enough for yesterday. Not enough for tomorrow. Enough for today. Enough for right now.

Go in the strength you have. It's what you've got. It opens us up to what God's got. And it's easier for God to move an object in motion than it is to move one stuck in a mud puddle.