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.
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.