Why couldn’t I write?
The need for perfection without the spur of the deadline and the grade. What I have to say is perhaps not profound enough. Perhaps not new enough. Perhaps not100% right.
Perhaps not.
And so I waited for perfection–the perfect idea, the perfect plan, the perfect words.
They did not come to me. Meanwhile, this blog was very boring.
I am currently planning a wedding, and hard as I’m trying to make it ours, it is everyone else’s wedding. I will come down the aisle in a white dress. We have a photographer and we will have reception food and I’m making my bridesmaids wear dresses that I like (and hope they will wear again). My two best friends are getting married this summer too–three weddings that will be not very different, actually, as different as they seem to the three of us. A person from the other side of the world could visit and take her pick and be able to say she’s seen an American wedding.
Things are going to go wrong. It’s not going to be the perfect wedding. I don’t get everything I want. My mom and I have to put a lot of effort in to pull it together.
And that’s not stopping me. If we end up serving pickle juice instead of lemonade I will be happy, as long as Dustan is still there. Being with him, after all, is the point.
And the point of writing is not to get it perfect. I hope to post more often. I hope to post worthwhile things. But nothing is going to be perfect, and perfection is not my goal.
It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.
I live in the freedom that lemonade will not make or break my wedding. I live in the freedom that making a mistake on my blog will not ruin my writing career. I live in the freedom that this imperfect life is a celebration of the coming wedding supper, the ultimate union when Jesus will take his bride.
It is with this freedom that I intend to break out of my paralyzed state and live in the joy of the Spirit.
For I was called to be free.
Kuyperian Librarian 
Glad to see a new post! And btw… it’s not your mom’s day– it’s yours. 🙂 Do what YOU want.
Impressed to see a post! I understand your thoughts on perfectionism–but it’s always better to just write. As you say, it won’t be perfect no matter how long you wait! 😉
I love you, Liz. You are my favourite author.
For what it’s worth, I’ve always loved your words, regardless of whether or not you thought they were perfect. I find that when I can let go of that unrealistic ideal of perfection, then I am most happy. I hope that you can find immense joy, perfect standards aside, in your writing and the wonderment that is your soon-to-be wedding.
l.
And a few years later you will look back to your wedding day and all of it will be perfect. ❤
Oh, Liz! I cannot express my happiness. I am so overwhelmed with the idea of shooting such a special day. I know it’ll be wonderful in every way.
Much love! Can’t wait to meet.
-Annie
I love you. The wedding day opens my eyes wider to you, and you open my eyes wider to Jesus. So the lemonade could be pickle juice, and all this would still be a beautiful road to perfect.
I’m marrying my favorite author, and it’s not all that far away either. I hope she’ll write a long story with me. Not a perfect one–God has never yet used a perfect story to make perfect worth sharing.
Still, the story will be happy. And happier, and happier. I hope our wedding day is the worst day of our marriage, because I hope our love grows so grand that what we had on that day looks pale. When I’m too old to move, or see, or hear, but can only feel you holding my hand, that must be the best day of our marriage.
Thank you, love. Growing older with you has already been a grand adventure and a happy story. And we’ve not even finished the prologue! This is going to be good.
I should clarify: My mom and I were not arguing :). She is putting a lot of time into this wedding for us and she and my dad are being very generous. I am very thankful for all her efforts!
When I look back at my wedding, there are many things I would’ve done differently-starting with the venue. When I remember the details, there were many things that went awry. I don’t remember the charge, or even the prayer of dedication my dearest sister-in Christ prayed over my marriage. I remember that I was surrounded by people I loved, and who loved me. I remember being amazed at all the people who were serving us by serving, singing, praying, standing there in shoes I bought for them:) I remember a lot of tears, and a lot of grace. In the end…I made memories with the ones I love, and I married my best friend. It’s been almost two years-and I love him so differently than I did. Less selfishly, I hope! Can’t wait to see how your story turns out, as I enjoy writing ours. God is kind!
Liz. Write. Write. Write! And KEEP writing! You actually are always INTERESTING! It’s sometimes in your style, sometimes in your content, and always in your honesty. Keep writing, and we will keep reading.