How about Being Pretty Good?

When I was pregnant with my third child, I was striving hard to be the perfect mother. I read books on the various developmental stages of my children and tried to make their childhood something special and memorable filled with love and joy and the right amount of discipline. I was selective about the toys and books we had in our home. Everything was with the aim of providing a rich, nurturing childhood and showing love so my children would have good soil to grow in.

One day, my next door neighbor who also was a mom of two young ones, told me about a counseling session she had with her therapist. Her therapist posed a question that really helped her. “How about settling for being a pretty good mom instead of a perfect mom?” My immediate reaction was, “No!” Who would shoot for pretty good? I thought Christians were supposed to strive for excellence in everything—especially in mothering. “No,” I decided. “I will keep striving for perfect over pretty good.” Still, something deep within questioned this decision. It has been something I’ve grappled with my whole life.

Not too long after this, my mom, who was born in 1924, seventh child of ten, said to me one day, “Quit reading books about parenting. Go with your gut. You are the mother. You can figure this out yourself.” It made me laugh and set me free. What difference did all those books do anyway? I guess I wanted to believe there was a formula for getting everything right so my kids would be okay. It was well-intentioned but a little silly.

In both caregiving and in my work at school I really want to get an A+. I wish I was okay with a C. It is mostly my pride that wants perfection, but I can’t blame it all on pride. I think that there are some good motives and intentions underneath these high expectations for myself. Love for my husband, for teachers, for students. I don’t want to let them down because I care. But the constant striving to get it all right wears me out.

We run out of pills because I didn’t stay on top of it.

Tom gets sick because I didn’t want to throw out the whole milk from Thanksgiving, even though I knew he clearly needed lactose-free milk.

The paperwork piles up on my desk at home.

At work, I try to follow the rules and end up hurting someone’s feelings. Or I promise to do something and forget about it and let someone down.

I get preoccupied with so many things—and though I try to be an active listener, there are times when my brain is on overload and I am not fully present.

I care about what people think. But the truth is, people aren’t thinking about me too much. They are fighting their own battles. Striving to do what is best. Wanting to get it all right, just like me. Or just wanting to be loved and encouraged in a world that can be rough and difficult. What we all want is some grace and understanding.

So when I mess up, which I do regularly, it’s really a good opportunity to accept my humanity. Today I’m going to be at peace with being pretty good and sometimes not so good. It’s all in the context that I was created by One who is Perfect. Perfect in love, in goodness and in mercy. I belong to Him. When I can’t stand, I can fall on his grace. When I come to terms with my poverty and neediness, I make room for His life and grace.

This Advent I want to welcome Jesus into my messy life. To ask Him to come again. To fill me with forgiveness, comfort, help, strength and peace.

Come, Lord Jesus.

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