Today I found myself thinking of my mother.   She was born in 1915 and lived through the Great Depression.   For some reason, the people in her generation didn't talk much about their past, but here's what I know about her.   She was the third oldest of nine children.   Her mother, father and oldest sister emigrated here from Yugoslavia in the early 1900s.   Two of her siblings passed away from diphtheria as infants.   When my mom was 15, her mother passed away at the age of 39.   Her father drank and didn't take care of his family.  My mother told me he beat her for eating a piece of meat from the smokehouse because she was so hungry.  At that point, both of her older sisters had left home.  She left soon thereafter.   I can't even imagine leaving home when I was 15.  I was barely out of the Barbie doll stage let alone having to fend for myself.   

The story continues where she got a job working as a Nanny for a Jewish family.   Over the next couple of decades, my mother found herself working in a hospital laundry and then a bakery.  It was while she was at the bakery, a cake decorator took her under her wing and my mother discovered a hidden talent.  She had an artistic flair and used it to create beautiful wedding cakes.  It wasn't until years later that I discovered I, too, had the same talent.

Although I never decorated professionally, I did use that talent to bless family and friends as well as generate a little income when I was a stay-at-home mom.    I now limit myself to making birthday cakes for my grandchildren. 

If you've hung in there so far, you're probably wondering what this has to do with anything.   You see this morning I was making a birthday cake for my granddaughter who's turning 4 tomorrow.  She wanted a "Grinchy" cake…Christmas in July anyone?   I always hold my breath when the kids tell me what they want because I'm afraid I won't be able to do it.   I inherited my mother's talent but she was the artist with a blank canvas.  I'm just a copycat.  Since I can only draw stick figures, I've had to get creative using other means to get the desired results. 

If you are a perfectionist like I am, I don't have to tell you the anxiety I would have every time I made a special cake.   I would be in agony working on these cakes fearing the disappointment on my grandchild's face as I focused on each tiny flaw, until today.   

I started off by waking up before dawn and I knew it was because I was feeling the pressure of producing the perfect cake.  Soon after I was mixing and baking.  It wasn't until the second layer that things went south.  As I was flipping the cake onto the bottom layer, it started cracking and falling apart.  Normally this would've sent me into panic mode but instead, I took a step back and asked God for help.   Yes, I asked God to help me fix this cake.   

The Bible talks about how He knows the exact number of hairs on our heads and He's aware of every sparrow that falls to the ground.  I truly believe He loves it when we ask for His help even in the small things.  He doesn't want us stressed and anxious about anything and He never expects us to be perfect.   

He answered my cry for help and I finished the cake even with a few other challenges.   As I stood back to look at my handiwork, I heard myself saying, "not perfect but perfect enough."   How I want to apply that to every area of my life.   The first place I need to start is by not comparing myself to anyone.  I've placed my value of who I am based on other people's thoughts and opinions my whole life.  One of the ways I'm recognizing it is my attitude when I'm with others, especially family.  If they're happy, I'm happy.  If they're not in a good mood, neither am I.   Does anyone else do this?   

I know this won't happen overnight night but I believe the first step toward change is awareness.   I will keep asking for His help  but the difference will be that since He is perfect I can be ok with being "perfect enough."