The past 22 years I have trained my ear to hear every imperfection, and my voice and hands to seek perfection. So when I listen to this, I immediately cringe at each blaring flaw.
But. I’m beginning to learn to embrace my imperfections. Gosh it’s hard. My entire life I’ve been subliminally taught that my identity & value are weighted on the scale of my performance & perfection.
But let me tell you — performancism is a prison, and perfectionism robs you of nearly everything you value.
There’s good news: the vulnerability of embracing our imperfections and letting others see them opens the prison door and ushers us into the journey of freedom where we can begin to reclaim all that was stolen. Here, authenticity and connection are the highest value.
Only when I let others see my imperfections can I experience being loved in the deepest and most desperate places. I’d rather be exposed with all my flaws yet truly loved for who I am, than praised for a show I put on, on or off the stage.
I tell my students this all the time, but am honestly still learning it myself:
Music itself is imperfect.
Perfection in music is never the goal.
The goal is to communicate your heart.
The day I sang this, God kept leading me back to 1 Corinthians 1:17 — “Christ sent me...to preach the gospel, and not with words of eloquent wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power.”
😱😱😱 (read that again)
My imperfections point others to the cross of Christ. The cross where Jesus’ perfect act of worship covered all my imperfect attempts. The cross where grace came and met me in my futile efforts and love somehow made sense.
My perfection leads no one to deeper intimacy with God...myself included. In fact, it does the opposite. The more I strive for perfection, the more I beat myself up because I’m not, and the more I continue to rely on my efforts rather than resting in the perfect finished work of Christ. And that keeps me running from a true experience of grace and a profound encounter with love.
God doesn’t want our perfection.
And neither should we.
He just wants us.
Every single imperfect part.