The Perfection of Imperfection: Learning to Live Whole in an Imperfect World ✨
🎥 What Stirred This Post
I was outside today, filming some B-roll for a YouTube video — just a few quiet clips around our barnyard. And though I’ve spent the majority of my life advocating for gratefulness in whatever the Lord provides — not just in words, but with a full heart — I have to be honest…
I caught myself wanting to avoid filming that part.
Why?
Well, truth be told… I felt a little embarrassed.
Compared to the high-dollar barns and curated homesteads all over the internet, our little patchwork of skid-wood shelters with tarp-covered roofs looks, well… humble. Lived in. A bit ragged. It doesn’t look like the polished version of “homestead living” that fills my feed.
And I could hear that quiet whisper — “Who are you? What do you have to offer?”
“You’re in your 50s and 60s and this is all you have to show for it?”
Then — clear as day — I heard the Lord answer back:
“The devil is a liar.”
And just like that, I remembered how rich I really am.
Not because of what I own. But because of what I’ve been given:
❤️ The kind of peace that only comes from knowing Jesus.
👣 A life walked hand-in-hand with my husband and children.
☕ Dishes in the sink because we had food to eat.
🐐 Livestock that never won a ribbon but give sweet milk in return for a dry shelter and a caring hand.
Everything we have might look imperfect — but it has been more than enough.
🧠 The Ache for More
There’s something quietly exhausting about trying to make life look like a magazine spread.
You’ve probably felt it too — the pressure to have a picture-perfect kitchen, an Instagram-worthy life, a tidy pantry with matching jars and labels.
But this pressure comes with a price.
Often, that price is peace.
It’s two parents working just to keep up with “normal.”
It’s debt and worry.
It’s marriages stretched thin and children raised by screens.
It’s the kind of ache that never really quiets — because it’s not based in truth.
🔥 The Cult of Perfection
We don’t call it a religion, but it functions like one.
Our culture bows at the altar of perfection — and the tithes it demands are costly.
- The pride of life: Where success is measured by status.
- The lust of the eyes: Always reaching for what’s prettier, shinier, newer.
- The lust of the flesh: Where ease and comfort are king — even if it costs your soul.
And what has it produced?
Broken homes.
Exhausted mothers.
Children raised in confusion.
Men stripped of their role and women worn thin from chasing a lie.
The homemaker didn’t just disappear from the workforce — she disappeared from value.
And that, my friends, was no accident.
🪑 When Imperfection Was Okay
Sixty years ago, meager beginnings weren’t shameful. And honestly, neither were meager endings — as long as the life was full.
A woman didn’t have to be perfect — she just had to be present.
A man didn’t need status — he needed strength of character.
Their homes might’ve had threadbare rugs and hand-me-down chairs, but their tables were full. Full of noisy children. Full of conversation. Full of soup stretched from a single chicken and hands held in prayer before a bite was taken.
We didn’t need perfection then — we needed each other.
🚪The Trouble with Trends
I’m watching something interesting happen lately — a kind of rebirth of simplicity.
And I want to cheer for it. I really do.
But too often, it’s simplicity without a foundation.
- The “trad wife” bakes her bread… but forgets the Bread of Life.
- Tiny homes now cost more than modest full-size homes used to.
- Minimalism has become a kind of religion all its own — no room for “stuff,” but no place for grace either.
We’ve traded the lie of “more is better” for the lie of “less is best” — and missed the deeper truth:
It’s not about more or less — it’s about peace.
And peace doesn’t come from square footage or Pinterest boards.
Without a firm foundation, all these movements will eventually crumble.
They might look beautiful — but they don’t hold up when the storms come.
🕊️ The Truth: Imperfection Is a Teacher
I’m 55.
And I’ve started three blogs in the past year. I’ve finally started writing the books and projects that have followed me for decades.
And you know what?
I’ve had a lot of dreams. A lot of almosts. A lot of “maybe one day” and “I think I missed my chance.”
But I believe that even that was part of the plan.
Romans 8:28 reminds me:
📖 “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”
Maybe those things weren’t meant for then.
Maybe now is the season.
And maybe God had to keep me restless — not so I’d be miserable, but so I wouldn’t grow lukewarm.
I’ve come to believe that the sense of “not quite finished” is actually God’s way of keeping me teachable.
Of reminding me I’m not the potter — I’m the clay.
Because peace isn’t something you get when you control everything.
Peace is a fruit of surrender.
And praise God, He doesn’t love me in spite of my imperfections.
He loves me because He sees the full story — and He calls it beautiful.
💌 Dear Reader…
If you feel like you’re falling short…
If your home isn’t tidy…
If your pantry isn’t Instagram-worthy…
If your marriage feels more “in progress” than picture-perfect…
You’re not alone.
You’re not failing.
And you’re not disqualified.
This life isn’t about finishing with a perfect house, or a flawless family photo, or a well-funded retirement account.
This life is about being faithful with what God puts in your hands.
Live with gratitude.
Love without polish.
Laugh in the mess.
And never be ashamed of the not yet — that’s where the growing happens.
Because…
📖 “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
— 2 Corinthians 12:9