Perfect is a lie

I've always been a black and white kinda girl. I am a self-proclaimed perfectionist. I often times see things as the way I wish they were or the way they should be instead of enjoying the way they actually are.



Last night at dinner, I had a moment. A surreal moment. I took a second to look at our family as an outsider would. We sat at a huge table for 9. (Jordan's bf Ben from college has melted into our family shananigans without a second thought.) We were loud. We were probably obnoxious. We were laughing uncontrollably.



I took a second to evaluate "us" as I would critique one of my photographs. I oft times throw out a picture if the lighting isn't just right, or the angle isn't quite what I wanted, but I think sometimes I delete some really great photographs because I'm waiting for them to be perfect.



I think I've been waiting for my family to be perfect.



And potentially I have deleted some really great times in my attempt to do so.



We are what we are. We are not perfect. We make mistakes daily. We have adoption issues. We have cultural issues. We have parenting issues. We have marital issues. We have family issues.

Look at this next picture... I ordinarily would have deleted it because I cut Jordan's head off.

But look what I would have missed... Look at the smile. Look at Ben's face. Look at Justine's little pudgy hand holding the crayon in a death grip. Look at the details of the very colored on table cloth. I would have missed a lot if I hadn't stopped to look at the details.

We are a work in progress for sure. We are all trying to make sense of this life God's given us. We are all working together to be the family we want to be.

But we are no where near perfect.

It's good to be reminded every once in awhile that things don't have to be perfect to be good. Heck, I'm finally getting to the point where I don't even believe in perfect. Only one person was ever perfect, and it wasn't me. Perfect is a lie. It's a lie we tell ourselves when we look at other people; when we compare ourselves to others.

I bet there were people watching us interact with each other during dinner who thought we had it all. We were the perfect blended family. Look at them. Their kids love each other. Their kids obey them. They look so happy together.

While on the inside, I'm feeling so much less than perfect.

Perfect is a lie. And I'm just now learning to be OK with that.