chasing perfection

              There's nothing I've run after more in this life of mine than chasing perfection, but the thing is it always seems to slip through my fingers like sand. And just when I think I've trapped it, bound it in my arms, I realize it's just beyond my fingertips, slipping away just barely beyond my reach. A perfect life is simply something you could waste your entire life looking for, but darling you'll be disappointed every time. However, I have met perfect love, and in this, well found a form of perfection, the one thing I'd been head over heels, work to the bone, trying to find my entire life. But to accept this perfect love, one has to accept brokenness with it. And brokenness can be so overwhelming. Like the cold rush of the ocean tugging at your ankles begs you to go with it, except brokenness doesn't just beg and plead you to go with it, it demands you, it commands you, it reprimands you. And once it has you, see it doesn't stop. It knows no limits, it takes you by your entire being, fills your head until you're overflowing with its existence and begins to pour out your mouth in words you thought you'd never say. It pushes and pulls, pounds on the inside of your skull, trapped but begging to be set free. And you desperately long to be rid of it, but that's the thing, brokenness cannot be broken. So it pulls and pushes and screams at your insides and your fingers desperately need to rub your temples, soothe the storm behind your eyes, silence your mind, but it dares you not to move so you don't, similar to the way ocean water tugs at your ankles and begs you to go with it, yet still dares you to be still. And we always do, because that's what happens when fear outweighs the thirst for adventure. The waves forever dance in our eyes and we stand with our feet planted firmly in the sand, forever longing to dance with them. Even when the storm is over, brokenness wrath, it seems we can't escape. It lingers like the rustic stench that arises from the thickets of old branches. It follows you down every unpaved road. And crawls into every room you harbor security in. The brokenness in this world, I know it's hard to believe. Oh, our young eyes have had to perceive. But if it is because of brokenness that we need grace, then why don't we welcome it into open arms with a warm embrace? God welcomes us into His warm embrace despite all the brokenness we contain. And if we are to be like Him, then shouldn't we do the same? I think that's the secret to it all, warmly welcoming all life brings, with all the brokenness it contains, finding joy in every moment of it knowing it's in our maker's presence we remain.