That's How the Light Gets In

A recent comment on one of my friend's blogs reminded me of some of my favorite Leonard Cohen lyrics from the song "Anthem."

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I've been meditating on the principles of integrity, humility, joy, being true to oneself.

I wish I had written these words. How glorious.

Ring the bells that still can ring,
forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything,
that's how the light gets in.

I've been reminded so often over the last year of how imperfect my offering is -- my offerings as a mother, a friend, a daughter, a wife, a poet, my offerings to God. And sometimes I work myself into a frenzy of worry because I know I will NEVER get it all just right. I will never get even close. And sometimes, in my holding out for the perfect offering, I remain silent and offer nothing at all.

I am afraid to disappoint. Afraid of being judged. Afraid of being noticed and celebrated. Afraid (even more than I am ever willing to admit) of not being noticed and celebrated. Afraid of hurting others.

So many agreements I have around getting things right. How actively I judge myself each day and for years on end.

So, Cohen's words are such a comfort to me.

Also, in an address he gave to our stake earlier this year, Jeffrey R. Holland said passionately and emphatically and in a way that cracked my heart and rearranged it instantly and forever that God loves broken things.

Oh yes he does.

So when the days get a bit murky with disappointed perfectionism, I remind myself once more that God loves broken things. That, in my broken, insufficient state, I am exactly perfectly what I need to be right now. And the fear abates and I ring the bells that are only mine to ring and know that a loving Heavenly Father will take my meager gifts and they will be enough.

Ring the bells that still can ring,
forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything,
that's how the light gets in.