She stood in the doorway, looking like a storm cloud. “What’s wrong?” I asked her.

“Life isn’t perfect,” she said.

Oh. Yes. That’s what’s wrong.

I remember when it occurred to me, after years of insisting that life is wonderful (and it is), that it feels a lot more honest and freeing to admit imperfection. To acknowledge that Eden was a long time ago. To remember that perfection is still ahead of us.

One thing I hate about the enemy is that he’s the source of imperfection, but that’s not enough: he uses our longing for perfection to pit us against life and  each other. So we’re not perfect, and we hate that, but at the same time we hold others to our expectations of perfection. It can get really ugly.

I wonder how Jesus lived in this tension of knowing perfection but walking, sleeping, eating, loving in a fragmented world. Maybe what made it possible for Him to live well was that He was full of Grace and Truth. He knew reality– the unchanging, clear sense of what was accurate about the moment, but He had grace to cover the shards, elastic to stretch past real limitations.

I’m thinking alot about perfection and imperfection since the week of Christmas, which held more laughter and tears than my normal capacity. In a perfect world, we would understand each others’ hearts and have no expired passports.

The week was also filled with grace. Magnanimous, expansive grace.

Two days after Christmas, my parents, sister and brother-in-law, a friend, and I took a train to Berlin. Our 3 days there were filled with education, laughter, coffee, good weather, discussions.   I think laughter is such a big grace that it’s almost sacred. All of trip was a wonderful way to recharge the batteries.

I have no New Year’s resolutions. I am unspeakably grateful that God is over time, and doesn’t mark years and days as we do. With Him, the next moment is always the moment that is untouched, clear, and ready for new beginnings. For that reason, I know He doesn’t mind when I keep pleading with Him for His grace and truth to become the fabric of my life.