Confession: I am a
perfectionist. Well, if I’m being
totally honest with myself, I’m more of a former perfectionist who still
struggles with the realization that there never was such a thing as perfection. A work in progress, we shall say.
I’m older. I’m wiser. Yet I still find myself striving for that flawlessness just beyond my grasp. Is it instinct, or bad habit?
Take this summer. As a parent, as a teacher, as a big believer in rest and renewal, I embrace summer as one of my most important seasons. I work very hard for ten months out of the year in order to perfectly enjoy those two hard-fought summer months. Indeed, I write about it every year! And yes, I have certain expectations for how I want that summer to progress. Usually, my goals are pretty simple. Play with my kids. Read some good books. Get a tan. Reinvigorate myself.
I consider myself pretty spoiled in this department, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Yet invariably even my simple summer plans are not executed without a few hitches. And that, I’m finally learning, is simply life. A give and take between what you want, and what you get.
This summer, I really feel like that Paula Abdul song. One step forward. Two steps back. Just when something goes according to plan, several more things fall apart. I’d been enjoying more than a year of good health in regards to my ulcerative colitis, and I suppose I’d gotten complacent that perhaps my body was finally responding to medication and falling back into normalcy. I’d been working out regularly, feeling like the old me, and summer was just around the corner. Perfection!
Then—no. Just not. Another flare-up. Another ugly bout with this chronic condition of mine. Another reminder that some things will always be out of my own control. So beyond being limited in how far I can travel and what activities I can do with my children, I’m also back on steroids (and all that entails). My heavier workouts have been stymied, and my spirits have been rattled.
And yet? Isn’t this the best time for a flare-up? A chance to heal at home, without work constraints, without major responsibilities? God’s time is always the right time, even if we can’t see it. Amidst all my frustrations, I’m so trying to find that silver lining.
I carry on, walking the line between positives and negatives. Pleased that we can afford Holiday World season passes, and that I’ve managed to take the kids without any major problems from my colon. Frustrated that our Trailblazer and mini-van—both of which we’ve recently paid off—have suddenly required expensive repairs. It’s been a jarring back-and-forth.
Going to Bombers games at the local League Stadium!
A nest of mice found living in our attic that keeps us awake all night long.
Filling up the inflatable pool in the backyard and having picnics!
Our drains are suddenly stopped up and stinky.
Having simple time again to keep my home clean and in good condition!
I broke the toilet seat during a recent cleaning.
As Erik likes to remind me, these are merely middle-class American problems, and I know that; I know it. There’s no doubt how deeply blessed we are, and I cling to that reminder daily. The Great Physician is still at work on me, and not just physically. Even at my age, I still have a lot to learn. Frustrations are simply that: frustrations. In the grand scheme of things, they mean nothing. It is how we respond to them that truly form our character, and that is a test I am determined to pass. In fact, I don’t just want to walk that line; I want to dance it.
I’m older. I’m wiser. Yet I still find myself striving for that flawlessness just beyond my grasp. Is it instinct, or bad habit?
Take this summer. As a parent, as a teacher, as a big believer in rest and renewal, I embrace summer as one of my most important seasons. I work very hard for ten months out of the year in order to perfectly enjoy those two hard-fought summer months. Indeed, I write about it every year! And yes, I have certain expectations for how I want that summer to progress. Usually, my goals are pretty simple. Play with my kids. Read some good books. Get a tan. Reinvigorate myself.
I consider myself pretty spoiled in this department, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Yet invariably even my simple summer plans are not executed without a few hitches. And that, I’m finally learning, is simply life. A give and take between what you want, and what you get.
This summer, I really feel like that Paula Abdul song. One step forward. Two steps back. Just when something goes according to plan, several more things fall apart. I’d been enjoying more than a year of good health in regards to my ulcerative colitis, and I suppose I’d gotten complacent that perhaps my body was finally responding to medication and falling back into normalcy. I’d been working out regularly, feeling like the old me, and summer was just around the corner. Perfection!
Then—no. Just not. Another flare-up. Another ugly bout with this chronic condition of mine. Another reminder that some things will always be out of my own control. So beyond being limited in how far I can travel and what activities I can do with my children, I’m also back on steroids (and all that entails). My heavier workouts have been stymied, and my spirits have been rattled.
And yet? Isn’t this the best time for a flare-up? A chance to heal at home, without work constraints, without major responsibilities? God’s time is always the right time, even if we can’t see it. Amidst all my frustrations, I’m so trying to find that silver lining.
I carry on, walking the line between positives and negatives. Pleased that we can afford Holiday World season passes, and that I’ve managed to take the kids without any major problems from my colon. Frustrated that our Trailblazer and mini-van—both of which we’ve recently paid off—have suddenly required expensive repairs. It’s been a jarring back-and-forth.
Going to Bombers games at the local League Stadium!
A nest of mice found living in our attic that keeps us awake all night long.
Filling up the inflatable pool in the backyard and having picnics!
Our drains are suddenly stopped up and stinky.
Having simple time again to keep my home clean and in good condition!
I broke the toilet seat during a recent cleaning.
As Erik likes to remind me, these are merely middle-class American problems, and I know that; I know it. There’s no doubt how deeply blessed we are, and I cling to that reminder daily. The Great Physician is still at work on me, and not just physically. Even at my age, I still have a lot to learn. Frustrations are simply that: frustrations. In the grand scheme of things, they mean nothing. It is how we respond to them that truly form our character, and that is a test I am determined to pass. In fact, I don’t just want to walk that line; I want to dance it.
No comments:
Post a Comment