The Other Side of Perfect: Reflection from Emily Rutledge

Six years ago I was very pregnant and very organized.  I was finishing up my second year of ministry at Church of Our Saviour and expecting our first child.  I had lists and plans and lots and lots of expectations.

I had begun the work of setting everything up for my maternity leave so that the transition would be smooth. I had an entire folder on my desk labeled ‘BABY PLAN’.  I had systems in place.  I had safety nets hung.  Sometime right before I had this over-planned for baby I met with Fr. David, my boss and mentor, and he asked me how I was.

My response was a long monologue regarding all the things I had done.  The plan. My well thought out map of how I would keep all the balls in the air.

He is a patient man, he listened, knowing better than to interrupt a very pregnant person, and when I took a breath he asked again, how ARE you?

I answered; prepared (insert laughter of parents everywhere) but anxious about my return to work.  I didn’t think I would be able to do all the things I had done before.  I went to gazillions of games and performances and was available for everyone at a moment’s notice. I thought I would let everyone down. With a baby I didn’t see how my ministry would be possible.  I was anxious that I wouldn’t be the minister I had been.  

David assured me I wouldn’t be.  

Here is where my heart drops and my stomach hurts…

I had hung my hat on being that minister.  I had found validation and worth through my work and as the looming birth of my little girl drew closer I felt my ability to be all the things to all the people slip away.  The ability to be close to perfect was deteriorating.  My whole life I had striven for perfection and I wasn’t sure who I was if I couldn’t get close to that goal.

Suddenly here I was.  The one thing I knew I was good at was going to change and the one thing I had no idea about (parenthood) was knocking on the door.  I saw them as enemies in competition for my achievement.

To be a good mom I would be a bad minister.

To be a good minister I would be a bad mom.

So here we are… six years later.  I am out of the forest of having small babies.  I’m the mom of two awesome humans, ages five and three, and I’m a full time minister to the youth and families of our middle and high school students. And David was right… I am NOT the minister I was.  Were you hoping for a different outcome? Were you hoping I could do it all?  Did you think I had the secret to parenthood and working full-time and not losing your mind and failing all the time?  Sorry… not my truth!

Perfect has moved so far out of my vocabulary my phone auto-corrects it to pizza.  I don’t see nearly as many games and performances as I want to and I miss more bedtimes and baths with my little people than I ever thought I would.  My phone goes silent at 10 pm and texts go unanswered until morning.  My children sometimes spend sick days in my office when there are meetings I can’t miss.

And… not one person is worse off for it.  Not my students or their parents or my own children.  Isn’t that just the worst?

See, apparently the whole world does not begin and end with my ability to do it all.  I don’t, in fact, improve the life of my family and my parish by being perfect.  It seems, in reality, that God is still God in spite of me.  It seems that perfection is not a requirement for doing a good job.  It turns out healthy boundaries, self-care, and trusting that others are as good at (or even better!) at some tasks than we are makes for a fuller life.  

For much of my existence I felt that striving for perfection was a holy act.  I thought that ringing out every ounce of my gifts and time for others meant I was serving God to the best of my ability.  I believed that anything less was selfish and lazy.  I didn’t accept that I couldn’t work for God’s grace or earn a spot as God’s beloved.  I also didn’t like that God could do plenty without me.

This parenthood thing has taught me lots but above all it has taught me that perfection does not equal success and weakness does not equal failure.  

Parenthood has made it so my plate can no longer hold all my things.  

Things fall off.

I put things on other people’s plates.

Things get traded.

Things get left to the side for too long.

It gets messy.  

One of the joys of my job is the simple act of presence.  Where many things have taken a backseat in my ministry presence holds a strong spot on my plate.  Being present in the lives of teenagers is a daily reminder that the bar of perfection is crushing.  It’s also moving.  When we continue to strive for perfect we not only get duped into believing there is such a thing but we find ourselves thinking others have achieved it and we have not. We buy into the lie the world sells that perfection brings fulfillment and joy.

The day that my boss informed me that after having a baby I would not be the minister I was before... I thought it was a death sentence.  Instead, when it came to fruition, it was an emancipation from perfection.  

I was free to not even try to do it all.  Be it all.  Achieve it all.  When perfection was no longer on the table I was free to do what we are told in Micah are the only things God requires of us, “do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.”  

In invite you to join me on the other side of perfect… I kind of like it here.