perfect?

Every Friday night I spend my time with a group of kids ages 4-11. 'Kidz Club' is my favorite time of the week, and although it has it's challenges, there is nothing I love more than hearing my wee kids' enthusiastically told stories about their beautiful wee lives. This week I sat on the floor and listened to an 'interesting' description of Mary Poppins - the fictional nanny who was 'perfect in every way'. 

How often do we think perfection means tidy hair or a freshly washed car or 100% on a test? 
When I think perfect - I think no faults, no flaws, no dirt.
But now I feel a wee nudge in a different direction. 

What was the perfect sacrifice? What was perfect obedience? What showed perfect love?

Jesus, the Son of God. 

Beaten, mocked, scorned. 

Hung on a man-made cross. 

Jesus is perfect, but His death was dirty. 

Sometimes I get scared of things, because they aren't clean-cut, my hands will get dirty or I'd need to pull my sleeves up. But the thing is that God's will is perfect and sometimes it involves us getting covered in muck. 

While away this summer with a super team in Tanzania, I met a beautiful friend for life, she will remain anonymous, but her story will not. She had a serious fear of illness causing her to constantly stress, worry and panic. One particular night she awoke me in a panicked state in the middle of the night - she felt sick. I tried to calm her down, gently reminding her to concentrate on what was real and what feelings were true and rational, but this time she assured me she was really going to be sick. So out into the pitch-black, mosquito-filled, African night air we went. As she shook in fear, I quickly prayed the most random prayer of my life - I asked God 'Father if she is actually going to be sick, please just give the sickness to me.' 

Now in the hustle and bustle of us going outside we had accidentally awakened the amazing doctor-to-be on our team, and she came out to help. As she sat down, and I stood up, I ran inside, got to the nearest hole-in-the-ground toilet and threw up, everywhere. 

I felt fine while outside, I felt fine while throwing up and I felt AMAZING straight after throwing up. Two minutes later in came the two lovely girls from outside, both calm, full of peace and ready to go back to bed. 

God is perfect, the way He works is perfect. Being bold here - our image of perfection is warped. 

The perfect way doesn't mean the easiest, neatest, most clean way.

The perfect way simply means God's way.