Papa God,
In ancient times You commanded harvesters to leave sheaves of wheat in the fields for the poor to gather (Leviticus 19:9–10). As I walk through the fields of my day, I choose—by Your grace—to drop a few sheaves of imperfection in everything I do, small offerings for You to glean.
I embrace and offer my imperfections to You as tiny crosses (Luke 9:23), tokens of praise. Each one is a small death to my obsession with being perfect and a fresh acknowledgment of Your ultimate perfection. When I make a mistake or fall short, in my mind and spirit I offer that shortcoming up to your care.
I dare to embrace my imperfections because only You are perfect. They become a quiet showcase of Your exclusive glory.
May these offerings rise as a “soothing aroma” to You (Leviticus 2:9).
I acknowledge that only You are flawless, and
I gladly leave to You the delight of being The Perfect One
The Only Perfect One.
With all the love in my heart,
Your child
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Author's Note:
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