S = Seek God With My Whole Heart

U = Understand What Scripture is Teaching Me

S  = Sacrifice Time for Others

A = Acknowledge My Weaknesses

N = Never Question God’s Love for Others

Recently I had the privilege of hearing a gifted speaker present ideas and examples of how to develop a mission statement whether as an individual or as a family. I actually listened to this woman twice in the same day and walked away feeling challenged, intrigued, and inspired to give serious thought to this concept. In all honesty , I had never thought about writing a mission statement for myself, let alone for our family. Since the children are grown and living independently from us now, I have embraced the initial challenge of writing a statement that reflects ‘who I am’ and ‘who or what I desire to be’ while journeying through my life.

Surprisingly, as I sat down today to begin capturing my thoughts and giving words to desires, it really didn’t take a long time to accomplish what you read here using my name as an acronym. (Thank you mom and dad for not giving me a LONG first name….)

My first tenant to ‘seek God with my whole heart’ was a no-brainer. Since becoming a Christian believer over 30+ years ago, I have always pursued Him with a whole heart, even on my worst of days  or weakest attempts to be in communion with Him. Certainly, I have fallen short many days, even weeks, meeting with God one-on-one but I have long given up on feeling condemnation for my shortcoming in that regard. I may feel sadness in the long run, but I always return and it’s always with a whole heart…when a ‘hole’ in my heart needs patching.

I want to ‘understand scripture’. When I take time to circle key words and look up definitions I feel great satisfaction. I enjoy cross referencing and reading several versions of one scripture to find the hidden gems. I don’t want to merely read and do; I want God’s instructions for my life to be written on the walls of my heart and my mind.

Oooh…’sacrifice time for others’. This has always been a rough one for me. I like being in control of my day. I like to know a plan and stick to it. Wrong kinds of interruptions can set me in motion the wrong way. Cancellations can lend to disappointment and waiting patiently is a virtue still being sought on my part. I do like serving others; I don’t always do so with grace. God and I are working on this and He’s winning (smile).

Another oooh….’acknowledge my weaknesses’ which is really a polite word for sin(s). If you’re like me, that’s a topic we like to keep very private. I marvel and deeply appreciate people who have the courage and willingness to share deep, intimate details of past sin in their lives. I’m not like that. I have compartments in my memory. Several compartments contain experiences that I will talk about with great ease. Others are too personal. Maybe some day, but not yet. However, I am in pursuit of allowing God to reveal my faults to me so they can be brought to Him for forgiveness and redemption. Ministry training I’ve had teaches me to keep a ‘record of short accounts’–it’s amazing how spiritually clean I am when I put this into practice with a time of confessing and forgiving.

Lastly, ‘never question God’s love for others’…..He’s quite clear on His command to love others, to pray for enemies. In that I have no argument. My struggle is putting this commandment into practice when I hear, read, see the ugliness of sin all around me. I could write a book on how much I am grieved over lack of simple love and common decency in relationships, families, workplaces, communities, our nation, and the world. It’s so easy for me to fall into the trap of judging and making hasty assumptions when confronted with the reality of evil and ungodly behavior. Yet, when I take a deep breath, step back and observe after reminding myself to ‘see as Jesus would see’, my attitude (most of the time) changes and my heart softens. It’s during the moments of living in yet another ugly moment or news report that I remind myself to ask one simple question: “What is this person’s back story?” ….where were they wounded?…..who let them down?……when was love lacking? when did their world fall apart causing choices so contrary to the general goodness within each one of us?

Perfect or imperfect, this is my mission statement. Perfect or imperfect, this is me. My name is Susan, an imperfect woman who is being perfected by her relationship with God through His son, Jesus Christ.  Together, He and I are on a mission and I hope to greet you along the way. 

Something got into me yesterday. If that wasn’t enough of a surprise when I woke up this morning that ‘something’ came knocking at my door again and I let ‘it’ in with no hesitancy on my part. It wasn’t a stray animal, a spider, or a group of the elder bugs which bathed in the sun last week. No, nothing like that. It was subdued yet purposeful. It was quiet but created an on-going echo in my brain as I opened the door. I did not gasp. I did not shriek back in horror. I embraced this guest. I welcomed it and I gave it nourishment. I entertained “Cleaning Frenzy” for two days. I never left the house. I was confined within the walls, moving from room to room as I cleaned, dusted, vacuumed, washed, tossed, put away, and rearranged. If I didn’t know better I would have thought that I had entered a phase of “nesting” as pregnant women often do before giving birth to their baby.

“Cleaning Frenzy” had been an unwelcome guest in my home lately. In the past we’ve enjoyed numerous long, deep conversations which have stretched across the time within a week’s passing. Ignoring and not having “Cleaning Frenzy” in my home was no fault of hers–I take full responsibility for the estrangement that elapsed over time between our friendship. She would call, even leave a message or two, all to no avail. I chose to ignore her, to convince my mind that she didn’t matter and that I had better things to do with my time than drop everything just so she could be happy. That attitude worked during the summer months, when I could escape outside for a walk or run and even hop in the car and spend time with friends or shopping. While away from home I thought I had the upper hand in our relationship, but I have found out what a devoted friend she has been and continues to be in spite of my wrongful attitude.

“Cleaning Frenzy” waited patiently during the warm weeks and now that cooler weather has arrived, once again she sent a new message only this time it contained a bit more girth and oomph. The message came amongst dust balls the side of quarters, stacks of papers and magazines that have grown tired of being ignored, smudges on mirrors and windows that remind me we had Sarah’s little pups here for a few days. While the bathrooms had been ‘spot cleaned’ there were areas that beckoned for a wee bit more attention than a Lysol wipe can swipe. Even the closets weren’t safe from “Cleaning Frenzy”. Why, she made herself SO at home that she actually asked me to carry out three bags of unneeded and unwanted items to the dumpster. Of all the nerve. But, when I looked at how neat the closet shelves were after she tossed, rearranged, and washed inside I had to admit that she was onto something with all this energy she brought with her! She also encouraged me not to feel guilty about the ‘stuff’ that found a new home in the trash. Just how many tubes of half used body cream or mist does a person really need? and why do people keep candles that have been burned and don’t match the current decor? Then there’s the stack of photos that keep getting moved from one closet to another. How liberating to actually look through them one last time and discard the ones that were horrible to begin with or don’t conjure any real memory that needs to be archived any longer.

So, “Cleaning Frenzy” came to visit me for two days and we enjoyed a wonderful time together. As she left she lovingly reminded me not to let so much time go by before calling her again. As I smiled and waved I promised her I’d do just that. She left quietly and I’ve had ample time to relax along with enjoying the fruit of our labor, until “Personal Cleaner” called asking me why I’ve been ignoring her? Ouch. So, because I truly value the friendship I have with “Personal Cleaner”, after a hearty breakfast I got my favorite Bible and journal on my lap and dug into reading and reflecting on the wisdom that scripture has to share. “Personal Cleaner” and I spent some much needed time being quiet and admitting that some of “my own closets” were in dire need of being dusted and purged. And, though tempted to simply grab a thought and give a quick swipe of my inner most being to perform some ‘spot cleaning’ I allowed Jesus to do a more thorough washing. He nor I didn’t have to carry out three bags of trash, but He did remind me that “Cleaning Frenzy” and “Personal Cleaner” are two friends that deserve more consistency in our relationships.

Just as the cute pink graphic states…..I do consider myself to be in the process of recovering from perfectionism, a characteristic that I could write about in many different directions and expand my thoughts that would fill more than several pages. If i were to do so, I could choose to go the direction of blaming my past or a parent for this shortcoming, but I won’t. Instead, I’m choosing to write from a heart that really does struggle with being perfect and the sheer surprise discovering this trait although I never would describe myself as a “perfectionist”—raw reality is that I am…..I was…and probably will continue to be as I age.

When did I have this great revelation? The answer was given to me in August. I was attending a ministry training event which includes a session of personal ministry and God revealed to my team that “perfectionism” was an area of my life that had become a struggle in the negative sense of the word. While I don’t need or feel an obligation to divulge the entirety of the session, I do want to share my thoughts on how I arrived to realizing there is a struggle to be perfect waging within me…..at times.

I remember being in 7th grade homemaking class where I was learning to sew. Our first project was to construct a potholder. I was so excited when I purchased my fabric which was assured by the sales clerk to be ‘perfect’ for my project. I can still see it–it was white with pink polka dots. I eagerly watched our instructor as she taught us how to create our pieces and in each class demonstrate putting the pieces together. I always made sure I had a front row position to see her work so that when I sat down at my machine I could duplicate her work. Much to my dismay my efforts did not produce a beautiful piece of work. I remember using my little seam ripper over and over to remove badly stitched seams……eventually I became so frustrated over that little potholder that ‘fear’ came knocking at my door to take a seat next to ‘my project must be perfect’. Fear gained such a good seat, that I also recall trying to daydream or wish the clock to stop in my class before home economics. With each glance of the clock, the ticking of minutes giving way to the dismissal bell and the walk to home economics brought a sick feeling in my stomach. That little potholder was supposed to be a short, simple project but it turned into a giant mess threatening with my emotional well being. Each time I resewed my little potholder and presented it to the teacher for approval, I prayed that it “would be good enough” for her srcutinizing eyes. Following numerous tear outs and twisting of fabric I was finally finished, done–no more. I will always remember my grade–a C+.

7th grade was a long time ago, but in the years that have passed perfectionism has had many opportunities to show its ugly face. It has come through but not limited to: defining myself as a person, parenting skills, cooking talent, relationships, work, ministry, my home–I think you get the picture. My ministry team lovingly pointed out to me that for too long I’ve been striving to be perfect, worried that I will fall short, concerned with the opinions of others rather than looking for my affirmation and worth solely with God.

If struggling to be perfect isn’t enough, I also realized that another cohort likes to tag along and that’s “procrastination”. I’m real good at that one too. Connect the dots and the solution I found was that by procrastinating I didn’t have to worry about being perfect. Put off a hard or time consuming project long enough and you can’t fail, right? Wrong. An assignment, project, or task with a deadline will always win the battle for completion. I’ve put off making phone calls when I know the conversation won’t be an easy one. I’ve exchanged doing necessary reading for a leisurely few hours on the computer. The stress that results then from scrambling as the “deadline” approaches is mine and only mine as long as I don’t drag others into this part of my life.

It’s October now, only a couple of months since the head-to-head meeting regarding my perfectionism. I’d like to say that I’ve made some really good advances in winning the battle but I would be a liar. What I have won is a new and retained perspective that God doesn’t expect me to be perfect. It’s okay if I make mistakes. It’s okay too to allow my loved ones and friends to be themselves without interference from me. Gaining this insight and using it as a tool to navigate through each day has empowered me and helped to set me free. For awhile many of my expectations to do everything right was an agenda that was only readable to me; it was a hard copy in my mind completely hidden from others, yet I reasoned that others would take notice of a backslide and hold me accountable i.e. when I left my job in May I mentally made a commitment to write my blog on Tuesday. That mental promise to myself was upheld for quite some time until I began to receive invitations and offers for other things to fill my time. There have been several weeks when my blog wasn’t written until Wednesday. Well, today is Thursday and here is my blog and I can honestly say not ONE of my friends has contacted me to say “Where is your blog? What are you doing? Aren’t you going to stick to your promise? As absurd as it is, no one had to contact me because I was able to entertain those very questions all by myself until I got the key that unlocked the door named “Guilty Perfectionist”, opened it, and stepped on the welcome mat to the door called “Freedom Living”.

I’m thankful for the memory of a C+ potholder. I’m glad that experience is behind me yet the memory serves as a teaching tool for myself or to use for others struggling to be perfect. As that fearful, little 7th grade girl everything about the agony and frustrations of a poor sewing project consumed me to the point of wanting time to stop and caused me to lose focus of a bigger picture. Fast forward to gaining more skills and confidence as a seamstress and I’m pleased to report that I went on to constructing many garments for myself, my home, and my children. Most precious to me are the weeks that my mother-in-law and I spent together sewing my wedding gown. She was an advanced seamstress compared to my abilities, but I learned and I succeeded. In my mind I got an A for the dress and an A+ for precious time with a wonderful woman–so I kind of think those moments in time victoriously cancels out the C+ a little 7th grade girl received a long time ago and lends to my success of exchanging perfectionism for freedom.