If you recognize this from Facebook, theres more.
Now you may say, ok, why is that a big deal? Well let me explain.
For as long as I can remember, I have been a perfectionist. Not in the way that my house is always spotless, but in the way that if I wasn’t good at something, I just didn’t do it.
I didn’t think I was very good at basketball, so I didn’t play.
If I didn’t pick up a certain thing within minutes of doing it, that wasn’t for me.
I hated not being “successful”, so I avoided anything I didn’t think I was good at.
So naturally, when I under cooked chicken one time, or my pasta wasn’t perfectly cooked, or I totally botched a rue, or set off the smoke alarm a few too many times; cooking was something I didn’t like and wasn’t going to do.
Fast forward to 2018, I get married to the love of my life who, bonus: loves to cook. In our vows I promised to learn how to make good fried chicken. I was mostly joking to add a little laughter to our ceremony but more than two years later, I realized I hadn’t even tried. I hadn’t even looked up a recipe or stocked the pantry with the right ingredients.
I had taken advantage of my husbands love to cook and the fact that the better half of a year our kitchen was being remodeled. During quarantine, I had a lot of time to dig deep on some personal things. I had discovered the enneagram a few months before this all started which helped me understand motivation behind my behaviors. Over the past year or so, I have done some hard growth work. I mean really putting the time in on myself and how I can be a better person, teacher, daughter, wife, etc. It’s been tough.
I’ve grown in lots of areas but my fear of cooking, that one I still hadn’t addressed.
Sure, I could stick to my browning taco meet or box Mac n cheese, but I needed to face that fear of failure.
So last week, I took some chicken out, did the fancy egg wash and seasoned flour dredge and fried some chicken. I burnt a couple pieces and could feel myself start to fall apart.
Then I stopped myself. I thought of my sweet husband and how he would tell me he loved the burnt pieces anyway, and kept it together.
He got home from work. He tried a piece. I’m pretty sure he prepared himself for some nasty chicken because he looked like he had just won the lottery! He loved it!
The next night I tried something else and totally messed it up and burnt my hand really bad...
Moral of the story: I’m learning that everything can’t always be perfect. In fact, life rarely is. When I learn to let myself try, I can one day accept that failure is a part of the growth process.
I’m also learning that even though I’m not great at a lot of stuff, that doesn’t make me less valuable or make me less available to be used by God.
I’m never going to perfect at everything, but that shouldn’t keep me from trying.
God didn’t say that because I’m perfect, I earned His grace.
Not even close.
He says in 2 Corinthians that His grace is sufficient and His strength is made perfect BECAUSE I am weak.
Because I have short comings, His faithfulness is able to seen. Glory can only be given to God because I certainly didn’t get to this point on my own!
He said He’d make it good. Let’s hope my food is included under that.
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