PEACE IN IMPERFECTION

“So, were you completely giddy seeing the book in your hands?”

I didn’t have the heart to tell my dear friend that I had cried upon seeing all of my years of hard work in the flesh. And not tears of joy. Tears of frustration. Tears of disbelief. Tears of hurt.

Before I begin, I must make it well know that I am in love with the cover art. In love. My good friend, and wonderful artist, could not have created a more perfect representation of my beloved characters. She completely knocked it out of the park.

It just turns out that formatting a cover for paperback books is hard. Like, really hard. No matter how perfect the starting canvas is.

This was, I believe the fourth, or perhaps fifth time I had tried to get it exactly right. And, upon pulling it out of that white and blue, padded envelope, and flipping it around for my excited eyes to take in, I found it was not. It was not exactly right. It was close, but not perfect.

And that killed me. Why?

Well, one, because I didn’t think I had it in me to give it a sixth try 😂

Two, because I was already so terrified. Since I’d submitted my final manuscript, double and triple checked every possible needed edit I could think of, and picked pricing options, my mind was on a constant loop of worry. Had I gotten everything? Was there a grammatical error I had missed? A reference? Were people actually going to like it?

I had convinced myself they would not. That I had not done a good enough job. That I had failed. And the tiny, tiny flaw in my paperback’s cover just added another card to the deck. Now, not only was there something wrong with the inside, there was something wrong with the outside. How could I do that to the cover artist who had worked so hard for me?

And thirdly? I am a perfectionist. If that wasn’t obvious. Have been, all my life. A quality that has been plaguing me since childhood, it was now presenting itself with even more strength in my time of great stress. Perfection was hungry, and it must be fed, even if it would never, ever be full.

Rushing to my room, my parents assuring me that the cover looked great, I threw open my laptop with tears still blurring my vision, and opened the program that would help me fix this hideous oversight.

However, seconds before completing the task at hand, I felt something stalling me. Stopping me. Halting me.

“Leave it.”

The voice wasn’t commanding. It was comforting. It was slightly amused. It was loving.

“Leave it.”

I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, the Lord wanted me to leave it. Let it be. To be happy with what I had accomplished, even if it wasn’t completely and utterly perfect.

I don’t know how, not by any power of my own, for sure, but I managed to heed that adoring command. I closed my laptop, picked up my handiwork, and actually smiled. Smiled with pride. And felt relieved.

Why? Because that tiny, little flaw, the one that most likely no one would notice but me, had freed me. It had reminded me of what my Savior and Heavenly Father are constantly trying to teach me:

I don’t have to be perfect.

When will I whole heartedly believe that lesson? I’m not sure. But this was a sure step in the right direction. And, it has already made this process a lot more enjoyable. Because, it’s allowed me to accept that Reframed will never be perfect. It’s already not. And that’s ok. It’s wonderful. It’s a testament of my Savior’s love for me. That He takes me and my weaknesses and somehow turns everything into beautiful blessings that I cannot begin to comprehend.

I love Reframed. I love this book. I love the characters. I feel honored that the Lord would bless me and trust me with them. I do not deserve it.

Others may not. Others may find things they hate about it. They may even find a spelling mistake.

But, should that really matter to me? Should I really be focusing so much on my flaws, or the possibility that others will zero in on them?

No. Because, that is not what He does. His focus is not on my mistakes. He never once expects me to be perfect. He has freed me from those chains. He just expects me to try. And He finds beauty in those imperfect attempts.

So, no. Reframed is not perfect. I am not perfect. But at this moment, I’m really, really at peace about that. Happy, even. Because those gaps allow for His love to fill me. And I wouldn’t want any of this without Him in it.