Day Thirteen
Presence Over Perfection
It seemed I had gobs of time before I had babies. I’d wake up early and spend an hour reading the Bible and praying. I had a process for everything I did and it wouldn’t be a far stretch to call myself a perfectionist. I’ve always struggled to understand God’s love outside of my performance.
When I had kids, my time suddenly disappear altogether. Between the ridiculous amount of endless poopy diapers, laundry, constant feedings….while also trying to help support our family financially, it seemed there was no more time in the day. I found myself getting bitter because I had NO idea how anyone stayed close to God while having children so close together.
If I woke up early, my kids would somehow sense it and wait for me at the crack of dawn begging to be fed. If I tried to get to church early to serve, one would do a big number 2 all over my clothes right before. After scrubbing yellow infant poop out of everything (walls included), we’d finally leave. And then my toddler would be mad I forgot her Minnie Mouse and throw a screaming tantrum all the way to church.
I’d end up in tears and late, hoping no one would judge me for not loving Jesus and praying they wouldn’t smell my new mom perfume, Eau de Toilette.
I’ve always been an advocate for how discipline can change our lives. But often, we can confuse perfection for God’s presence. When God gave us the Law in the Bible, it was to be followed out of the outpouring of an experience with him. The Israelites were to remember how they were liberated from Egypt and followed God through a pillar of cloud and fire. The presence of God was always supposed to be the motivator.
Yet so many of us get it backwards. And we try to use the Law to follow a regime that will lead us to this presence. But perfection doesn’t lead to presence.
In this season of trying to balance motherhood and working, I’m embracing God’s presence in the messy rather than all the processes I *thought* he required. I’m learning how to cultivate his presence wherever I am.
By praying out loud on my car rides every morning (even with screaming babies in the back). Worshipping during breakfast with my kids and dancing around the living room with them. Posting scriptures on the kitchen window so I can memorize while I do dishes. Or by leaving my Bible where I nurse so I can easily flip open the pages.
I am pursuing God’s call on my life by raising up the next generation. God is not faulting me for that. But he is asking to re-define the way I experience him. And in turn, he is giving me an authentic encounter with him daily. One that is not so clean and perfect, but is messy and vulnerable and apparent for my children to see.
Chelsie Antos