Sincere Imitation.

“Mommy, are you ready for the show? Sit here, Mommy, watch.” One by one the little fashionistas come sashaying down their runway, dawned in layers of pink sparkly tulle, heels too big, and multiple hair bows pinned in for beauty’s sake. I remember hours of the same. Hours with cousins-- reemerging from the dress up closet in every kind of wear, Miss America pageant style: daywear, eveningwear. Then judging, usually getting the near last place ranking of being a younger cousin.

My girls spend hours in a day dressing up in imitation of a ballerina, a princess, a pioneer girl, mommy, a bride. We all imitate something. Even babies imitate; it’s how they learn.

I love to get ideas from other moms, ways to parent, new recipes, good habits to instill- and then I too imitate. And all this imitation pales to the real thing, real perfection. Every once in a while I catch glimpses of “real” things at a museum, a well known building, landmark, a voice over the radio--- and yet amidst my strife to find the best, be my best, the better version of me will always fail.

I have the real “real thing,” I have God living inside of me. I have the moment by moment choice to die to my imperfect fleshly self, so that He can live in me. I have the real work of my creator on display as far as my eye can see. Real. No imitation. 

Why do I try to resemble anything less than the character of the only perfect God-man I know?  It’s as if I try to imitate the scribbles on my fridge, rather then God’s Sistine Chapel. If I imitate anything less than God, then I set the bar too low. This intimidates. But imitating people, or worldly philosophies, means picking up flaws. God is the only flawless being I will ever know.

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Not that God needs ours. Yet, what better way can I praise Him?

Imitation is all around, from the vanilla in my pantry to the artwork on my wall.  What love I see in Him, that He willingly reveals Himself to me, willingly invites me to copy Him. He isn’t copywrited. I saw His love yesterday in His willingness not only to let me know of His forgiveness, but to taste it. He demonstrates to me each day His great love and patience. He never taunts, “Stop copying Me,” from the backseat.

Lord, help me to teach my girls not to want to be beauty, but see His. Not to wish to be someone else, but only desire to be like Him. Not to imitate the giftings of others, but to share with the world their own uniqueness. To live in their own fingerprint of God.  Help me not just to teach, but to live this, so that they can imitate a mommy who is imitating the Lord.  

^{Ephesians 5:1-2} Therefore be imitators of God as dear children. 

And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us and given Himself for us,

an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma.