Perfection vs. Love


We all strive for it. Some of us try to convince others that we embody it. Some of us rebel against it. Some of us swear we’ve seen a hint of it. Taken a taste of it. But the truth is, perfection does’t exist on this earth. And on some level, we all know that.

And even though, in the very bottom and deepest parts of our soul, we know no one has ever experienced it, we think the fact that we haven’t is something we have to hide. Something we have to be ashamed of. Something that we have to run away from. Something that, if we have professed our faith in the Lord, we are lacking without.

And while it is true that we were created by a perfect God with a longing to get back to the fullness of His perfect love, He doesn’t expect that from us. He never did. So why do we expect it from each other? Why do we expect it from ourselves?

It goes back, way back, back to the beginning. Back to the first two people to ever set foot on this earth. They were placed in a perfect paradise living with their perfect creator. But this creator created them, and us, with freedom. And as they chose to disobey their one rule (which was ultimately for their protection), they lost perfection for the rest of their lives. And thousands of years later, it’s still gone.

What does a perfect God do with such an imperfect creation? Does he throw it away and start over? He certainly could have. He had every right to keep trying and trying, creating and creating, tweaking and tweaking until he had something that would remain perfect forever. But he didn’t. Why?


Despite what culture and movies and songs and fairytales try to tell us, love and perfection do not go hand in hand. At least not on this earth. We have hope for a future of a beautiful union between the two. We know we will one day experience a love so deep and perfect, it fulfills everything we are. But that is not on this earth, in this life.

But there is one love. One love so pure. So true. So mighty. So, dare I say, perfect. This love reaches beyond our shortcomings and mistakes, our mess and insecurities. This love is not of this earth, not of this life. Yet it reaches to us on this earth, in this life, and accepts us more than anyone ever could. It is the same love that didn’t start over when its creation broke itself. It is the same love that broke its own heart to get back the perfection that was lost in that moment.

It is the love that picks me up when I am down. It is the love that tells me who I am. It is the love that gives me purpose. It is the love that forgives me at my worst. It is the love that brings the rain, and the sun, and the clouds. It is the love that takes away what I want to bring what I don’t know I need. It is the love that defends me, the love that stands for me. It is the love that never leaves me. It is the love that knows me to my core. It is a love that sees the deepest, ugliest parts of me, but still chooses me. It is a love that sees my imperfections and doesn’t throw me away. It is a love that takes away my fear.

It is the love that chose to die for me, so that I can now choose to have hope to be reunited with the perfect love from which I was created. It is the perfect love that I live for.

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