“Live by grace, not perfection,” insists the Hobby Lobby wall decor in my bathroom. What a nice sentiment. It’s a memorial plaque to when I realized perfectionism was crippling my life — before I returned again to the deceptive lover.Right now there’s a spider web hanging just above the chic sign, it’s paired with a framed fern leaf and a naked nail, where I need to hang one more decoration. Because you must hang wall decor in odd-numbered groups. Even numbers look awkward.
I posted a photo of this wall decor on Instagram once with Paul’s words:
I am the girl who loves fully but can also hate with utter passion anyone who hurts my loved ones. And far too often, I am the girl who refuses to let go of anyone’s wrongs. Instead, I find myself looking for ways to inflict the same — or greater — amount of pain in return. Of all my sinful tendencies, I would argue that this is the worst.
Over a year ago, my betrothed and I were burdened in our hearts to move to the desert of Phoenix. I knew God was leading us. I was told. I was affirmed. I was excited. The newness of it all wore off when we arrived and my electric blue Volkswagen Beetle burned my hand as I was shutting its trunk in the 122-degree weather.
I was a Sociology major in my undergraduate career. People always asked me what I wanted to do with a major that studied individuals and cultures. Every time I would respond that I wanted to go into social work. Now two years later I am one year away from receiving my Masters in Social Work. Already it has been a journey full of growth and understanding more about the biblical perspective of what it means to help people through their life story.