Present Over Perfect

my house and our Christmas into something fantastic,
something perfect . . . or I could plunk myself down right in
the middle of the mess and realize that the mess is actually
my life, the only one I’ll ever get, the one I’m in danger of
missing completely, waiting around for fantastic.
That Christmas I chose to be present over perfect, and
that’s still what I choose today. Some days I do it better than
others—it’s still a tremendous temptation for me to spin out
into achievement or efficiency or performance instead of
dwelling deeply in life as it presents itself each moment.
Indeed, sometimes I can get a little obsessive about pursuing
non-perfection just perfectly. But the endeavor itself is trans-
formative: my marriage, my parenting, my friendships, and
my connection to God have all been enriched in countless
ways along this journey.
This isn’t about working less or more, necessarily. This
isn’t about homemade or takeout, or full time or part time,
or the specific ways we choose to live out our days. It’s
about rejecting the myth that every day is a new opportunity
to prove our worth, and about the truth that our worth is
inherent, given by God, not earned by our hustling.
It’s about learning to show up and let ourselves be seen
just as we are, massively imperfect and weak and wild and
flawed in a thousand ways, but still worth loving. It’s about
realizing that what makes our lives meaningful is not what
we accomplish, but how deeply and honestly we connect
with the people in our lives, how wholly we give ourselves
to the making of a better world, through kindness and