Serenity’s spreading

There are plenty of take-offs and spoofs, clever variations of songs and movies. They’re designed to amuse or challenge. Most of them manage to raise a laugh or an eyebrow.

I was scrolling this week and came across a knock-off prayer. Of course, prayers can inspire us to pray in a similar way and so I have no problem with whoever came up with it. But the fact that it was a knock off was highlighted in the title: The Other Serenity Prayer.

I often talk about being kind to yourself as you grow and change, so when I read this, I had to share it with you. Part of the reason I like it so much is because it is a prayer.

When we set about trying to change ourselves, our will alone usually falls short. That’s why we enlist help from friends and family, or we pay a professional to walk alongside us with guidance and advice.

In my own journey, I have found that even other people are not enough on some things. They fall short. They lack the ability to transform us, all they can do is act as an external feedback source that we must respond to in the correct way if we are to grow.

The thing with a prayer is not only are we inviting God into our situation, but we’re inviting Him to change us. “God grant me the serenity to let go of perfection” – we’re still involved in the process here, but where we fall short, we ask God to provide what we need.

Perfection paralyses. The very idea behind perfection is that when something is perfect, we don’t want to change it – it’s perfect as it is. When something is perfect, there is no room from growth, no room for change, if there was change, that thing would cease to be perfect. But if change or growth enhances it, surely it wasn’t actually perfect in the first place.

I have heard people musing on why, in the account of creation, God didn’t pronounce the world as perfect – he just called it good, and when it was complete, very good. Because, if he had called it perfect, it would have locked it in its current state. Instead, he said go forth and multiply. Creation was good and it was ready to grow. Seeds were ready to spread; animals and people were ready to multiply and bring forth new life.

But we want things perfect. That perfect moment to store in our memory, things to go perfectly at work or at our special event. What happens instead? The cake gets jammed into the fridge and there is a massive gauge out of the top (true story). Then friends gather, and problem-solving kicks in, and there is a really good tale to tell the bride the next day when it is all over and it doesn’t matter anymore.

It’s in the moments that aren’t perfect that we laugh, or we cry. It’s in the moments that aren’t perfect that we experience life. The not-so-perfect brings our character to the fore. Sometimes we are overawed with the beauty of the moment and other times we are horrified at what comes out.

And so the prayer continues. “The courage to offer myself grace as I grow”. So what does this word ‘grace’ mean anyway? I don’t deserve grace. I just messed up. Again.

That is the beauty of grace. It means undeserved favour. The whole point is that we don’t deserve it!

“I don’t want to be kind to myself, I did it. I am to blame.” When we know that we ‘should’ offer ourselves grace but it is impossible, we can ask God for the courage to do so.

Why should we? To give ourselves grace, to be kind to ourselves in our hard times goes against everything within us.

Those negative thoughts, our old way of doing things, they are going to try and keep us right where we are. They’re going to stop us from growing – as if where we are is perfect, when we know full well that it is not.

Surely to grow will be a positive thing. Surely there is more potential and opportunity if we can allow ourselves to change. But that is daunting. That prayer for courage takes guts. God will provide courage when we ask but notice that our part is to offer ourselves grace – something that we don’t deserve. That does take courage. Especially when we can’t see the end of the journey.

The self-talk gets in there and brings up our list of failings, the attempts to change and the times that we’ve slipped back into old habits and negated any progress we had made.

Even when our mind is reeling with the chatter of yesterdays, the prayer invites a better way. “And the wisdom to remember– You love me just as I am, even as I become more.”

None of us are perfect. But hopefully, you can see that is not a bad thing. None of us are perfect because we all have room to grow; to become more of who we are created to be, to share our stories, to encourage others. Even when we have made mistakes and bad decisions, we are no longer striving for perfection. We’re growing instead.

So, we ask for wisdom – wisdom to know that even when others can’t see it or we can’t see it ourselves, our creator can see the potential in us. He won’t call us perfect, but he will call us good. He loves us, not because of what we’ve done – all of us have messed up in different ways – but because of who he made us to be. He knew that we wouldn’t be perfect. He loves us anyway.

Knowing that we are loved and cared for is the foundation for growth. Think of children who thrive in loving care versus those who suffer neglect. Even when others hurt us, our creator is cheering us on to growth. Even when we struggle, He is crafting a story in us that will strengthen those who hear it. Even when we want things to be perfect, He offers us grace – undeserved favour – knowing who we can become.

Whether you prefer prayers that have stood the test of time, or creating your own, invite the creator into your circumstance. He’s under no illusions of who you are, he knows your story. He will walk with you and support you with the things that you need as you walk your journey. He’s not waiting for you to become perfect before he will step in and help, in fact he didn’t make you to be perfect. He made you to grow.