I'm looking for a new rule to live by. I love rules. When you follow them, it's like a RULE that you're doing it "right" and therefore no one can mess with you. Nothing bad can happen because that's the RULES and you're following them.
For a long time (my life time) the rule I've subconsciously lived by (and recently not so subconsciously have tried to extricate from my brain) is this:
you're not done until it's perfect.
Hence, logically, tragically, depressingly... I'm never done. Never, no matter how much I have done, heck, even if the thing is done - I'm not done. Is or was it perfect? No? Well, then I'm not done. I'm trying to figure out what I did wrong so it can be a little closer to perfect next time. I should have done better. I should have foreseen the unforeseeable. I should have known not to say or do that. I should have planned for x, y and z.
I don't know what it's like to do my best and let that be good enough and just sit back and relax and enjoy the fruits of my labor. I can't enjoy. There is no enjoying. There's only "this may be nice but it's not good enough yet. Here's how it could have been better." I seriously can't think of a single thing I've done that I didn't have some amount of self-inflicted shame or guilt over not doing it better, even if "better" equals "humanly impossible." It's somewhat more terrifying when it turns out that it's just "beck-ly impossible" and lots of other humans can do it just fine. Because then, as you can probably guess, beck despises herself even more for not being able to accomplish something "perfectly reasonable, just look at all those (differently gifted) people skipping along."
I'm sure this perfectionism fed my depression, especially after having a kid (or two.) As any parent will tell you, the presence of a new baby often doesn't allow for even the most basic of things to be begun, much less DONE and finished. So I didn't do anything (or hardly anything) because why did it matter? I couldn't even pretend to be done with anything - dishes, laundry, housework... it was all overwhelming and insurmountable. It would never be perfect. I could never be perfect. I am not enough. My husband and kids deserve someone so much better than me. Etc..
My sweet husband and children have taught me so much about what love and life are really about. Without them I'm sure I would still be stuck. I am still stuck now, to some extent, but I'm beginning to see that I don't have to be like this. There are other, far more desirable and rewarding options.
Grace, being one of them.
Grace, being the one I just don't get.
And with grace, I think it's supposed to be like that.
I've known of grace all my life, but I think, just recently, I'm starting to live in and with grace. God's grace.
I can be done.
Jesus is perfect.
I don't have to be.