seasons: the ugly parts.

In February, GOD and I had another conversation that led to a revelation of sorts.
I wanted to hear what HE had to say to me, but you can't really force that kind of thing, so I ended up talking to HIM instead.  (You know how that goes...)

Looking at YOUR SON,
I see Redemption.
Endless Love.
   Willing to go to extremes
    to make things new.
HE was not afraid.
HE loved without judging.
HE was not threatened
    by anyone else.
HE was fully confident
    in HIS role.. HIS identity.
HE touched.  HE moved.  
            HE spoke.

I let something block me from ever fully expressing in written words. Why GOD?

And just as naturally as my words flowed from me, HE reciprocated, allowing HIS words to flow into my heart and out of my pen.

You panic.  Perfectionism gives you writer's block.

There was a pause.
(Maybe to allow me a moment to catch up to what HE was trying to say.)

You aren't willing to work in layers, phases.  
You want perfection from beginning to end.

And I knew it was true.  HE was so right.  That's why I'd sit for hours, agonizing over the introductory paragraph of every paper I ever wrote in college.  It had to be perfect.  It had to capture the reader.  It had to be just right.  I'd type and re-type sentence after sentence, carefully considering ever word, so as to express my thoughts flawlessly.  I had trouble moving forward if I wasn't certain that everything was as it should be.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that my problem with perfectionism didn't only apply to my writing habits.  It was an issue in my life.

I could not allow something to remain unresolved.
I couldn't stand loose ends.
Especially if they were jagged and rough.
I wanted clean solutions.
I wanted pretty endings.
I couldn't stand the ugly parts.
So I agonized over every incomplete paragraph, and I desperately fought for resolution in any damaged friendship.  Or relationship.  Or work situation.  Or.... (you get the point.)

I would find a way to make it right.
I would make you like me again.
I would analyze every inch of that ordeal until I understood exactly why you felt the way you felt which made you act the way you acted and what I did to make you feel that way and what I would need to do to take away the bad feelings and replace them with good feelings because I don't want you to think poorly of me and I hate when I can't do anything about what you think of me and I really really hate when I can't fix it.

And that's exhausting.
(and a run-on sentence)

Yeah...  It might be an understatement to say that I had trouble moving forward if things weren't as they should be.

But you know what?
Sometimes you can't do anything about the mess.
Sometimes it's not something that can be fixed right away.
Sometimes you have to walk forward with no promise that resolution will ever come.
Sometimes you have to let go.

An amazing thing happens when you release your death grip on a situation:  It can breathe.

It's funny, I have a lot more I want to say about this...
So many more thoughts about the beauty of even the unresolved...
But I just can't seem to figure out how to say it...

So I'm going to follow the other piece of advice HE gave me that day:

Be content with the unfinished.

It seems that even in-- and maybe especially in-- the ugly parts, there is hope.