I know I’m far too timid. It’s like I want to check with the world just to make sure it’s alright if I exist. Breathe air, walk on the ground, take up space, that sort of thing. I get down to weighing my own costs and benefits and I forget that Someone created me and that He actually wants me to breathe the air and walk on the ground and occupy some place in the universe, and He wants me to enjoy doing it. It sort of blows my mind, that Someone would actually enjoy giving their resources to me just because they want me to exist with them in their space.
I’m not underestimating my value as an individual. In the broader scope of things I know that I have worth as a person and that my needs are valid; that I have lovable qualities and a legitimate voice. Just like all of us.
But I know that sometimes, in the nitty-gritty everyday, I can start to feel like a thrift-store human being: shabby, worn out, broken, maybe not quite full-price value. Sometimes I feel at home in outlet stores, with other things that don’t quite make the cut anymore. So I tend to try to stay quiet and out of the way.
But then I remember that there’s no cut to make. I am one of those Greek sculptures with missing limbs: maybe not exactly the way I was when I was new, but still a priceless piece of art to which my imperfections add a depth that no flawless thing could ever hope to achieve. So there's no reason for me not to live as vibrantly as I know I have the potential for. There's no reason for me not to boldly occupy my space in the world.
Hey, you: are you imperfect too? Oh please, please be flawed with me! And don’t try to hide your flaws, either. Don’t try to be perfect; I cannot abide perfect people. Please let’s get over that whole pride thing and just be imperfect together. I’ll promise not to judge if you promise the same, and then we can just be. Come sit with me in the bargain aisle; bring a bottle of wine and we’ll talk long into the night here on the Isle of Misfit Toys. I’ll say stupid things and you might too, or at times we might not say anything at all. I’m ok with that, if you are.
Cause things might not be perfect, but I bet they can still be wonderful.
