Bobbed Tails

The natural inclination of my thoughts leans toward self-betterment -- I have always been one to assess myself, even going so far as to label it as a constant routine of faultfinding, as I identify areas of weakness and think of the possible changes I may adapt to improve in those aspects. While of course, I do not say that this is a bad thing -- one should assess themselves and always seek to be better than who they were yesterday, but if one tried to look for the imperfections in oneself, one would always find it. 

As I was looking at myself one night in the mirror, I felt such unrest as I kept thinking if I was doing anything wrong or lacking in something at the moment: How can I change my personality? How can I change my looks? How can I change the way I speak so as to not seem excessively friendly but not too off-putting? How can I change my microsocial behavior so that other people would find me less awkward or treat me with respect? I got so caught up with these that I fell into internal turmoil masked with the sugared concept of "self-improvement" which was, in reality, bitter, and more tragically so, self-destructive. It was in this flurry of thought that I received a revelation from Him that self-improvement does not come in order to gain self-approval or deem myself worthy of praise in my eyes; rather, it comes after the fact when I have accepted who I am at the present, and love myself despite whatever I may see. Perhaps those not accustomed to such thoughts may think of it as self-centred, but maybe what really is self-centred is expecting ourselves to be flawless, and hating ourselves if we were anything otherwise. It was, in fact, in one post online where I saw a three-word maxim that should have changed my thinking a long time ago: perfection is boring. And now that I have come to think of it, I cannot imagine a world where perfection reigned. 

Now, a world where perfection reigned is different from a world where goodness reigned, and with the latter I cannot wait until it is so, when His kingdom comes. In such regard, I am not saying that a world without sin is boring, because in every respect we are continually being molded into Christ-likeness as we spend time with Him who helps us become so, but in the new heaven and the new earth (Rev 21:1), I speculate, justifyingly so, that us humans will still be humans -- maybe we would still accidentally spill a cup of coffee and clean after our messes, maybe we would still make a socially awkward remark, or laugh at our friends when they make a sloppy mistake (all in good fun). All I'm saying is, maybe we shouldn't become so obsessed with the idea of being perfect; yes we should be thinking of being better, but not to become perfect, because if that's what we're going for, then we will end up dying in vain in this rat race. 

I saw a cat the other day with a stubby or bobbed tail. It made the cat look just absolutely adorable, and as I was caressing it, I thought "What if the cat were made aware of its tail and the tail of its fellow feline friends -- would it compare itself and say 'I wish my tail weren't short, I wish it were just long and slender like the rest.'" Ah shucks, that would absolutely break my heart -- that cat was lovely just the way it was. 

We are that cat, and it would absolutely break God's heart if we looked at our bobbed tails and loathed ourselves for it.