(Photo courtesy of: google images)
My wife, Natasha, and I just got done moving into our new home. It has been an adventure to say the least, but we are finally able to be in our own house planting our roots in a new community.
While we were moving, I was able to have an interesting conversation with one of our moving assistants (that’s a nice name of someone we suckered in to helping us move heavy stuff).
While moving a heavy cabinet, the assistant slipped and fell on the ramp into the moving truck. I was on the heavy end of the cabinet, so it made it a bit difficult, but the assistant shut down verbally after this event.
While driving back to the house, I asked him if he was alright and his response went something like this: “Yeah, but I am seriously embarrassed. I hate making mistakes like that. I feel dumb.”
Instantly I went into pastor mode and said “Are you stinkin’ serious? We all make mistakes. I don’t know if there is anyone who hasn’t made that mistake.” Yep, that’s pastoral counseling at it’s best.
I can’t get over this conversation. Why do we get embarrassed? Why do we feel dumb when we make a mistake? What is it within ourselves that makes us ashamed of our failures?
This is the pain of perfection. Perfection is unattainable. Perfection is a myth. The only One we could ever consider perfect is God Himself (all three parts of Him). There is no one else on earth who can compare to that perfection. Yet, we feel dumb when we make a mistake.
Our failures are inevitable. Our faults are always going to be present. Yet, the God Who is perfect still walks with us. He does not point His finger at us laughing and scoffing at our slips and falls. He picks us up and calls us His children.
When the world points their finger laughing or looks at us with a scowl if we mess up, that’s alright. It is just a sign of their insecurity drawing attention away from their faults.
May we find security in our Savior, who was mocked and ridiculed on our behalf. His perfection was on the cross, where He took everything from us and for us, including the pain of knowing we are imperfect.