How I Stopped Chasing Perfection
by Colleen Duggan in Homemaking on Thursday, November 05, 2009 6:00 AM
Years ago I attended a coffee and bible study with a bunch of established women (read: most were twice my age, they had grown kids, and they happily shared their wisdom from years in the trenches). As a neophyte in the field of motherhood, I happily soaked up their suggestions. Convinced they had the keys to domestic bliss, I hung on every word uttered.
The theme for the day centered on bringing beauty to our homes and using home life, in all its mundane details and tasks, to serve the Lord. There was one woman in attendace whom I particularly admired. She was attractive and refined. She was the kind of mom I wanted to one day be—involved with her kids and able to juggle many balls in the air with grace and aplomb.
As our discussion meandered, I rememberd she offered these words to the group, “Before I got married, my Grandmother told me never to use paper plates. I never have. Disposable paper settings take away from beauty in the home. There is just something about a properly set table and a good home cooked meal. It adds something.”
As a newly-married wannabe domestic goddess, I took her words to heart. Her advice fueled my desire to achieve perfection in my home. With full throttle, I embraced the ambiance and appeal that flowers, table linens, real dishes, and home-cooked food brought to my table. I implemented these things as best practices in my home. I sought excellence in my physical surroundings.
Paper plates at my table? I think not! Plastic silverware and drinking cups? Never!
Such blatant tackiness and dare I suggest, laziness, horrified me.
Wake Up Call
But, reality soon hit. It started with my first baby. Then, I had a second one. Shortly thereafter, I was blessed with a third. Bearing a number of children in quick succession immediately expedited adjustments to my lofty and unrealistic standards.
How? I recognized my standards were impossible. Healthy doses of reality allowed me to see my desire for perfection both in my physical surroundings and in my relationships were totally impractical. More than that, my standards were beyond my human capabilities. The perfection I so ardently chased was never going to happen. Ever.
Though it is okay to strive for loveliness in my home (the kind the women were encouraging at the bible study long ago), I made the mistake of expecting perfection in a home where many people live, breathe, and have their being. Pretty things, cleanliness, and attention to details are all well and good. Making my home warm and welcoming, a spiritual and physical refuge for those who enter, can be a positive. But my humanity limits me in creating a perfect dwelling spot. Neither my home nor the people living here will ever be without defect.
It took me a long time to understand striving for beauty in my surroundings is not the same as maintaining the perfection I sought. My home will never be perfectly clean.
“How did this toothpaste get here? Didn’t I just wipe down this sink five minutes ago?”
Beautiful, Not Perfect
I will never have flawless table settings. My good china dish will always have a chip on it from the Thanksgiving dinner when one of the children banged mercilessly on it. My overused table linens will always have stains I simply cannot remove. That’s what happens when kids are allowed grape juice during special dinners.
My home, my table, and the food will never be perfect. In fact, it is all a far cry from five-star restaurant and hotel quality.
But that doesn’t mean my table or my home isn’t beautiful.
Whether we are digesting home cooked food or not, when I sit down to eat with my family, I have five charming faces smiling back at me. I assure you, they definitely are not perfect. But, they are definitely beautiful.
Peace in the Surrender
Once I surrendered my desire for perfection, something funny happened.
I felt peace and happiness. I felt I was okay. I felt my home was okay. Most importantly, I felt my husband and my kids were okay.
When my fourth baby arrived this past December, that put four of the six people in my home in an age bracket of five and under. Yet again, I found myself adapting the way I think things “should” be (the perfection I covet) and the way things actually can be.
How did this realization, practically speaking, play out? If you promise to keep a secret, I’ll tell you: I started using paper plates.
I know, I know, the horror of it all. But, for now, we dine on disposables.
And guess what? My table remains absolutely exquisite—paper plates, imperfection, and all.
—Colleen Duggan, proud wife and mommy, pontificates about motherhood at Meditations of a Stay at Home Mom.
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