perfection

I don’t believe in perfection…even the smooth stone at the end of the river, the one that is perfect, shiny and makes all the other stones jealous was only smoothed because the rushing water pushed it down the river, both forcing it into and dislodging it from crevices and dragged it along the bottom. It’s smoothness is not because it was perfect at the beginning, the middle or even close to the end…it’s smooth because it was beat up along the way…and it’s smoothness at the end is its perfection completed. I have a feeling my life can be characterized like that. Not always in step with standards, sinful, full of grace, off-beat, love struck, stuck in ruts, forced out of my comfort zone…I can only hope that my God, the One Who created the river and the rock will smooth me to perfection. And I love that though the river and the path of the rock seem random at best, I know in my core, that my God is intentional. And even though I strike out on my own, I know that He has me. He loves me.