I was reading Donald Miller's blog the other day, and I read his post Learning to Love Your Flaws, and I felt my soul take a deep, cleansing breath. It felt like an inaudible sigh of relief, actually.
Don posted a picture of himself--150 lbs. heavier--and talked about the value of flaws. I especially liked this sentence:
"It's true we impress people with our supposed perfections, but we connect with each other in our flaws." -Donald Miller
I am a person of contradictions, you see. Those who meet me dressed up on Sunday mornings often view me as solid, put-together, and eloquent. (At least that's what they tell me.) Then I change my clothes in the evening and proceed to a Bible study for women in recovery where brutal honesty is the rule of the day and brokenness is a gateway to freedom.
I don't look very perfect there, as I share battle-wounds from my bouts of depression and anxiety, what it's like to trust God with a daily physical challenge in my right leg that limits my activities, how heartbreaking loss pushes me into the arms of my Savior, and the tug-of-war I experienced as I strove to live sexually pure as an unmarried Christian.
In both settings, Jesus is the answer. My struggle, then, is how to be more honest--and yes, more flawed--in a church setting, how to let people see that I don't have it all together while sharing with them the life-changing truth of the gospel of Christ. I look at the example of our Savior, and I see that he was the same as he overturned tables in the temple, as he talked with the Samaritan woman, as he healed the masses, fed the 5,000, and delivered the Sermon on the Mount.
He was the same, yet he talked directly to those he ministered to, meeting them at their point of need. I can't say that Jesus was flawed, but I do know that he was human. My challenge, then, is rejecting perfectionism to embrace brokenness, letting the weight of my personality breathe in whatever situation I am in, and letting the love of Christ flow through me--and through my imperfections. As grace seeps in and changes me, I want to find joy in living beautifully flawed.
How do you believe God views your flaws? Do you hide them--or celebrate them?