Setting the Table

I don’t think God’s looking for perfection.

My three-year-old daughter sets the table now (as of like, four days ago).

I literally don’t care that she gives us plastic forks to cut meat or that she haphazardly throws a napkin to each person’s spot.

I just care that she’s involved.

And I love seeing how happy she feels to be involved.

I love seeing the joy on her face when she not-so-sneakily pushes her kitchen stepstool over to the silverware drawer and counts out “1…2…3” forks and giddily runs toward the dining table like she’s about to pull off the biggest surprise we’ve ever seen.

And when she’s done, I love hearing her proud little voice say, “Look, mommy! I did it! I did it! Go look! The table’s ready! I did it! All by myself! I know how to do it now!”

Last night as she made her “table’s ready!” announcement, she had her hands clasped over her huge smile in the most bashful/proud way—and I wish I could have bottled that moment up and saved it forever.

This is how I want to live.

I don’t want to be worried about perfection or performance.

I don’t want to be scared out of doing big things because I believe God is grading me like a dad who’s impossible to please.

I want to be brave and try things.

I want to get my hands dirty.

I want to be involved in His work.

I want to daily ask God, “What are you doing, and how can I help?”

Because if we’re really His kids, I don’t think He’s expecting perfection from us.

When we bravely join in on His work—no matter the outcome—and turn around and smile at Him proudly, He wants to bottle those moments up and save them forever.

He created us to be involved. To partner with Him. To do meaningful work that brings us joy and is for our good and the good of those around us.

Our purpose isn’t perfection. It’s just to be involved.

Sarah