God loves the imperfect
As one who makes mistakes, but tries desperately not to, I confess, I love hearing that God loves the imperfect. As one who must regularly confess the miscue, the misdeed, the missed mark, I delight in the notion that God loves the imperfect. As one who, just yesterday, said a quick yes, when I should have said a considered no. I am grateful that God loves the imperfect. As one who just typed imprefect rather than imperfect, I am glad that God has a sense of humor and still loves the imperfect. As one who pays too much attention to what others think, in hopes they'll approve, I sigh deeply to think that God loves the imperfect. As one whose tendency is to find fault with oneself and too often with the other, I am humbled to know that God loves the imperfect. As one who regularly revisits what I should have said, while others are speaking and I should be listening, I am bolstered to know that God loves the imperfect. As one who is easily distracted and often a million miles away from where my feet are, I feel the universe gather me back to the God who loves the imperfect. As one who regularly tries too hard to earn her own approval, I inch my way into the pool of grace and hear again that God loves the imperfect. The past is the past, God says, as God's love of the imperfect firms the footing of those whom God is perfecting. On the sixth say, God created humankind, you and me and all of thee, and God said we were very good. We were not yet perfect. God loves. God loved then. And still, God loves the imperfect. Thank God.
Posted on January 25, 2022, in Christian, poetry and tagged confession, God's love, gratitude, imperfection. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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