Befriending undone
What an idea to embrace the things in my life and faith that are still in progress. It’s quite contrary to my aversion to things left unfinished.
As a teen, I loved watching shows like Project Runway where fashion designers were challenged to create unique pieces and compete for the chance to have their own label. The judges were comedically outspoken — if a designer didn’t follow the week’s theme or made something completely unwearable, they made it known with their brutal commentary.
But of all the critiques, the worst was if the judges could tell that a designer rushed their work and let something go down the runway unfinished. They’d point out a rough hem or an open seam and question the designer’s capabilities. At that point, it didn’t matter how creative or innovative their design was, leaving work undone took away from the rest of the piece.
We can all tell when something is left undone and it’s not usually a good thing. A clean dish that still has signs of its last meal. A performance that wasn’t rehearsed enough. A half-written novel that collects dust. But what if there can also be purpose in the undone?
Sitting in the undone
This Lent season, I read Alicia Britt Chole’s devotional book, “40 Days of Decrease.” On day 21, she talked about how obedience in our faith is a lifelong process and that we must choose to follow Jesus daily. Then she gave a simple encouragement to “befriend undone.”
What an idea to embrace everything in my life and faith that is still in progress. It’s quite contrary to my aversion to things left unfinished. Leaving things undone makes me uncomfortable, sometimes even anxious. Unfinished work is what I think about most when I can’t sleep and what I am constantly chasing with my many to-do lists. When I was a reporter, I’d toss and turn thinking about the sources I needed for a story. Whenever I’m planning a party or trip, I obsess over the itinerary I need to plan and the supplies I need to purchase.
And yet, if I’m honest, I perpetually have a lot of unfinished projects. There’s a pile of clothing in my bedroom that I want to mend and I have a dish on my dresser that holds broken jewelry that I need to fix. In my living room, an empty planter hangs as it waits for me to repot my nanouk plant and there are shelves full of books I have yet to read. As much as I’d like to be the kind of person who always finishes what they start, I am also a person who is constantly generating new ideas and seeking new inspiration. These two sides of me are almost always in conflict.
So becoming friends with the undone in my life feels hard. In a recent therapy session, I faced the possibility that God wants me to forge my own career path right now, rather than follow a more traditional journalism career. But that doesn’t mean my desire for investigative journalism needs to be forgotten. Instead of grieving that desire, my therapist told me that I can hand it to God to hold onto until it’s time for Him to give it back. Imagining myself hand God this dream for safe keeping gave me peace. Perhaps I can wait knowing that I’m not giving up, I’m just giving it to God.
Can I actually sit in the undone? Can I get close enough to it to feel familiar, comfortable even? It won’t be easy, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that I can trust God with anything. I trusted Him with my plans to go to college in Boston and then to move to New York City. I trusted Him with my wedding, even after the pandemic derailed our initial plans. I trusted Him when I lost my job and had no idea where my career was headed.
In my experience, the best way to gain trust in God is to know Him better. And over the years, He has shown me that He is who He says He is — He is our Provider and Protector, He is all knowing and all powerful, and He keeps His promises.
My therapist directed me to Isaiah 46:10, which says that God knows the end from the beginning. This means that before we ever surrendered our lives, or our careers, or our families to Him, He knew how everything would unfold. That also means that God does not go back on His word. When He speaks to us, we can trust that it will come to pass, either in this lifetime or in God’s Kingdom.
“I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say, ‘My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.’” — Isaiah 46:10
We never fully arrive
It might seem like some people have everything in life figured out — they have their dream job, a career full of accolades, a beautiful home, financial stability, or a picture-perfect family. But we will always be searching and yearning for more.
I know this because I’ve seen it in my own career. When I first moved to NYC, I worked in retail for a year but wanted to be a journalist. Then I got my first full-time job at a media company, but I still wasn’t a reporter. Finally, I became a journalist and for a while, I really felt like I had my dream job — not the one I had imagined as a teenager, but a new dream that had evolved over time.
Eventually, that job lost its excitement and purpose because I started to want more. Then right when I was beginning to feel like it was time to move on, I was laid off and I’ve been on a journey to figure out what’s next ever since. Only recently has a new vision and understanding come into view: starting my own media company, something I never thought I would ever do.
If God had given me this vision two years ago, I wouldn’t have known what to do with it. God often shows us His plan in pieces because He wants us to work with what’s in front of us. Walking in obedience with only part of the vision builds our trust in Him.
Likewise, our faith is a journey and we never fully arrive until we get to Heaven. As long as we are on this earth, there will be more. More to learn, more experiences, more people to meet, and more healing. We are all works in progress and unlike an unfinished hem on a dress, there is beauty in our undone, messy lives.
What is something undone in your life that you’re struggling to embrace?
I struggled with sharing my fiction with close friends and family for years because I felt like it had to be perfect first, and also because we weren’t into the same things (I like medieval stuff; they, to my knowledge, don’t), so my stories wouldn’t interest them. To me, people were asking to be nice, or because I’ve always been somewhat private about my writing specifically. I wouldn’t mind talking about it — but I’d never send a link.
In 2023 I resolved to start sharing my writing (and stop caring so much that it was imperfect/unfinished), and it was very liberating! Truly the best decision for my creativity. I felt very proud and happy to have started unlearning perfectionism and letting things be messy. I found the beauty in my unfinished stories and started enjoying them as a reader — often wondering “what happens next?!” and laughing because I’d have to come up with it.
But I also noticed my friends and family stopped asking as much about my writing. I guess it became clearer what I write isn’t really what they’d read. Still, I would wonder if they’d ever done more than skim a little bit of my writing now that it was more out there and I sent it to their email, etc. That felt kind of bad at first. Like, really, you’ve been asking all this time and now you have nothing to say? 🥲
But as time went on I got over it. Now I feel really good because I’ve stopped caring whether something is good enough to be shared, or complete. I just do whatever I want and I’ve been having sooOoo much more fun ever since! ☺️📚🌱🌝🩵