Perfection

So I’ve gotten into softball a bit recently. A month or so ago my friend convinced me to try out for the school team with her. I haven’t played in four years, but why not at least try out? And I made it. I was actually a bit stunned because I failed miserably at all four days of tryouts.

The thing is, softball is a new sport to me. Something I’m not used to and that’s out of my comfort zone. When it comes to sports  I’m generally pretty sure of myself and what I’m doing. I’m a natural-born leader in most things I do. But suddenly, with softball, everything was foreign and I could hardly swing a bat correctly, let alone be team captain.

I had to accept that I wasn’t going to be perfect at this. I also had to accept that I had to be the follower, not the leader this time. And that was hard to do. I’m used to being advised how to fix the kinks– not being taught the fundamentals. I’m used to leading others– not having others lead me.

This is probably the most important lesson I’ve learned this year. That I sure as heck ain’t perfect, and that I need some serious fixin’ up (pardon my southern language). That I can’t figure it out on my own and I need someone else, someone better than me to help me out big time.

And not just in softball, or any other sport/activity/subject. In general. If I try and put out a perfect image of myself (which I lean towards more often than not), I will certainly be let down every single time. Relying on other people to tell me I’m great? Yeah. Not gonna work. I hate to break it to you, but people let you down.

I get told a lot that because I’m a pastor’s kid, I didn’t really have a choice but to be involved with the church and be a good girl. That thanks to my background, I’m a goody-two-shoes. Actually, folks, it’s a miracle I’m still going to church. I have CONSTANT pressure to be a good kid and that can wear a girl down. Or at least that’s how it feels. But in reality, always waiting for me is God’s gracious open arms. And nothing I have done, can do, and will ever do makes me deserve it. And boy, let me tell you, is that freeing! I’m not expected to be perfect. What I am expected to do is embrace what Jesus did for me on the cross and live that out. And even if I completely fail at that, God’s still waiting for me. He’s still there and always will be.