God, it seems that stopping is impossible.
Dishes need to be washed.
Kids need to be fed.
Aging parents need to be cared for.
Deadlines need to be met.
Medicines need to be administered.
Diapers always need to be changed.
(They multiply if I sleep, after all.)
Can you ease the burden of perfection?
Free me from this fantasy
of the better me—my
new exercise regime,
my sumptuous (healthy!) new recipes,
the way the perfect placement
of my living room furniture
would flatter the afternoon light
on my social media feed.
God, make me more than perfect.
Make me more than a job or role,
or what I had planned for my golden years.
Make me something less predictable
than my to-do lists
and daily calendar.
In this culture of more, more, more,
make me less.
Less tidy and afraid,
less polished and buttoned up,
less prideful and judgmental.
Turn down the volume of my expectations,
and let me hear the birds sing
another lovely truth:
I am deeply and wholly loved.
I am beautiful and somehow delightful
even as I am unfinished.
This blessing is from our new book of blessings, The Lives We Actually Have (coming 2/14/23)