Phil, My Mom was always correcting people, and I do that, unfortunately.

Pat Ferguson

At 01:00 PM 8/4/2010, you wrote:
>Shortcut To Perfection
>
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>By Phil Scovell
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>     I lived about four blocks from the elementary school I
>attended.  I well remember every square inch of that neighborhood
>and it was a wonderful place in which to grow up as a child.  I
>lived in Des Moines, Iowa until I was about twelve and then we
>moved to Omaha, Nebraska.
>
>     My first week of kindergarten was exciting and a little scary
>at the same time.  My mom walked me to school that first day, as
>most mothers did with their little four, five, and six year old
>children starting school for the first time.
>
>     During that first week, mom explained to me that she would
>walk with me but each day she would stop short of walking the
>entire distance with me and let me walk the rest of the way by
>myself.  This, she explained, would help me get used to it.  I was
>a little nervous, you might say, about walking alone and I didn't
>like the thought of leaving my mother either but I knew it had to
>be done.  After all, I was a big boy now because I was in school.
>
>     The second day, she walked all the way to the school grounds
>and let me walk the half a block to where my school entrance was
>for the kindergarten students.
>
>     the third day, we walked the first two block together because
>they were not divided by a cross street.  At the end of that first
>corner, mom encouraged me to finish the rest on my own.  She
>promised to stay at the corner so I could see her, if I turned to
>look, and that way she would make sure I arrived safely on the
>school grounds.  This was back before children were kidnapped.
>Now we jail such perpetrators, if they are caught, and then we let
>them out into society again two or three years later so they can
>do it all over again.
>
>     I well remember, turning around and looking around two or
>three times to see if mom was still on the corner, as I made my
>way down the remaining two blocks to school.  She was always
>there.  Fortunately, the school property could be seen clearly
>from the corner where mom stood but it was comforting to be able
>to turn and see her smiling and standing there watching.
>
>     On the fourth day, she walked about half way down those first
>two blocks.  Now, when I rounded the corner, I could no longer see
>her but I knew where she was and I made it without any trouble.
>
>     Finally, by week's end, I was walking the entire distance
>from home by myself without fear or reluctance.
>
>     Over the years, I walked every conceivable route to and from
>school.  When I was a little older, I gained courage enough to
>take a shorter way home by cutting through a back street and then
>snaking my way through backyards.  At times, I even went home for
>lunch.  I would run all the way, taking the shortcut, climbing and
>jumping a tall fence, eating lunch at home, and then running back
>to school in plenty of time to play on the large playground with
>my friends.
>
>     This childhood memory, along with two others, recently began
>surfacing.  The three memories seemed to be a boxed set.  The
>interesting aspect of the three memories, or the thing they all
>had in common, were that they were all good memories.  I am so
>used to going to bad memories, or painful memories, where healing
>by the Lord Jesus Christ needs to be done, both in my personal
>life and those with whom I pray, that I was stumped as to why
>these good memories were surfacing.  Sure, I had seen these
>pleasant memories hundreds of times over the years but as these
>came to mind, they seemed to stay, almost fixed, in my memory.  It
>was this memory, however, that seem to have a little discomfort in
>it so I began praying and asking the Lord about it.
>
>     He said, "How did you feel in the memory?"
>
>     I felt alone and said as much.
>
>     "What else did you feel?" the Holy Spirit asked.
>
>     I stared at the little 5 year old boy walking down those two
>long blocks alone and looking back occasionally to see if his mom
>was still there.  Loneliness wasn't really what I felt.  Then what
>was it?  I watched myself carefully in the memory and realized
>that I wasn't in danger and that my mom was just a few yards
>behind me.  Then it hit me and I said, "I felt like I should have
>not been afraid and able to walk to school on my own."
>
>     It was almost as if I could hear the Lord chuckle.  He said,
>"Phil, you don't have to be perfect because I am."
>
>     This statement was so powerful, I had to stop and think about
>it for awhile.  Yes, I knew Jesus was perfect but why this truth
>in this memory He was letting me recall?  Because something told
>me I should have been better; I should have been perfect; I
>shouldn't have been afraid.  Yet, Jesus said, "You don't have to
>be perfect because I am."  I felt the reality of this statement of
>truth and felt myself smiling inside.  It was true.  I did not
>need to be perfect because my Lord and Savior was perfect in my
>behalf.
>
>     I am not a perfectionist by any means but I often pray with
>those who are.  For those who are Born Again Christians, this
>kicks perfectionism right in the head.  So stop and think about it
>for a moment and if you still have trouble with your
>perfectionism getting in your way, call me and let's find out the
>truth which Jesus has for you.
>
>
>I Was Perfect Until I Met Jesus
>www.SafePlaceFellowship.com