Hubby and Our Two Sons

     For Father’s Day, I made my husband’s favorite Bearnaise Sauce to top the steaks barbecued by our oldest.  It had been years since I attempted to make this sauce.  Every attempt in the past 34 years failed in my estimation.  But as far as Hubby was concerned, the homemade sauce tasted wonderful.  To him, the taste was all that mattered.  To me, making it to perfection, producing a thick creamy sauce like the one served in the restaurants was my goal. 
     I faced this dinner with mixed emotions, knowing I could fail again and produce a runny sauce or one where the butter separates out to the top.  I cracked the eggs and carefully extracted just the yolks.  Mixed them briskly with fresh squeezed lemon juice.  Then over a low heat, I slowly stirred in the butter, added the tarragon and minced onions–so far, so good.  As I stirred in more butter per the recipe, I waited to see the mixture thicken before my eyes.  It was happening and I was rejoicing.  Then I glanced at the recipe noticing something about cooking and stirring until sauce was creamy thick.  So I continued cooking the mixture.  After all, if a little heat and stirring was good–more would be even better.
     In a matter of seconds, the butter separated, the mixture melted into a runny mess.  I just stared at the concoction, willing it to thicken.  When nothing happened, I threw the whole thing down the drain.
     Although, the steaks were done and everyone was hungry, I tried one more time.  Combining two recipes, I added more egg yolks, as much lemon juice as I had left, tarragon, chopped up the butter first, and avoided the tarragon wine vinegar.  I stirred vigorously, then slowly.  Carefully, I watched the sauce thicken.  Then I stopped.  I didn’t try to make it perfect.  But it turned out thick and delicious.
     I realized that this is the way I do most things in life.  I continue to pursue perfection until I ruin what was a perfect project.  In the Lord, there has to be a balance between persevering and pursuing perfection–especially a perfection that glorifies us instead of Him. 
     Jesus called us to be Perfect as His Heavenly Father is Perfect.  But that perfection stems from a relationship with the Lord and the indwelling of His Holy Spirit.  It is not a perfection achieved by our own working.
     In Psalm 119:96&97, it says: “To all perfection I see a limit; but your commands are boundless.  Oh, how I love your law!  I meditate on it all day long.” NIV
     The answer is not in our human perfection, but in the perfection that is created through time spent with the Lord and His Word.
     This post is part of Word Filled Wednesdays at the Internet Cafe.