I’m writing you this letter because I know what it’s like to be in your shoes. I’ve walked plenty of miles in them myself. I know the steps you are taking. I know the struggles you face and the ones yet to come. Most of all, I know the expectations you have of me. That’s the real reason for this letter.
Kids, please don’t expect me to be perfect. I know it’s easy to look at other kids’ parents and envy what they have. You can be quick to assume that so-and-so’s mom has it all together. I can assure, she doesn’t.
But really this letter isn’t about the other kids and their parents. It’s about you and me. I have to tell you something. I feel this weight, as your mother, to be perfect.
Please don’t expect me to be perfect. You see, I am perfectly incapable of perfection.
Your expectations of my perfection will only leave you feeling constantly let down. Goodness knows, I don’t want to let you down, but the reality is I will let you down because I am not perfect. Not even close. Try as I may, perfection eludes me and all the striving and straining leaves me feeling exhausted and inadequate.
Kids, I would love to be everything you need and more. I would love to have the answer to every question that pops into your adorable little minds. It would be wonderful if I encompassed every ounce of patience you need from me each day (or hour or second). I wish I could give you all the comfort you need, at the exact right moment.
How I would love to be everything you need and more, but that isn’t how God planned for it to be.
My sweet ones, I will fail you time and time again—not on purpose, of course. But every time I fail you or the world fails you, each time I let you down or the world leaves you feeling defeated, I pray you will turn to the only One who never lets you down.
I pray you will seek the only One who is perfectly capable of perfection. Allow Him to fill you up, lift you up, and meet every single expectation you could possibly have.
When I look into your eyes, sparkling blue like mine and when I run my fingers through your hair so silky smooth, you remind me I want to be my best. But remember, my best will never be enough. I am going to mess up. I will certainly fail. Time and time again, I will miss the mark. That is how it is supposed to be because if I could meet every one of your needs and expectations, you would have no need for Jesus.
And as much as I love you, He loves you more.
So even though I want to be perfect for you, I know I am not and I never will be. On the days I’m chasing perfection and coming up short, I hope you’ll remind me I’m perfectly capable of being imperfect.
To my kids, please know even though I will fail you and let you down more times than you can count, I will always love you more than you’ll ever know or understand. (Or maybe one day perhaps you will understand when you have children of your own). Until then, I’ll be here—perfectly incapable of perfection.