The underpinnings of perfectionism go back to the faulty belief that there is more power in what we do than in who we are. The roots of this go back to the insecurity spawned in the garden when Adam and Eve turned from their Creator’s ways to their own devices, and the fracturing that resulted. Their choice of autonomy over communal harmony altered the entire frontier of humanity, reaching from their generations to ours. Instead of building a foundation of success, they created a burdensome climate in which there was ultimately only failure at the farthest reach available. And anything that seemed like success was only self-deception.

We cannot be all that we were intended to be alone. We were created to be dependent, and interdependent. (Not codependent; more on that later.) When we assume we are self-sufficient, we are either unaware of this truth, are choosing to ignore, or are arrogant enough to suppose that we can succeed by our own efforts.

Scripture points out the necessary connection we have with our Creator as that of a vine and a branch: the branch receives life-giving nutrients from the vine, and if it is separated from its source, it can produce nothing, not even its own livelihood. Why, then, do we try to be autonomous, and act as if every situation is in our hands alone to change, fix or alter? A branch connected to a vine can thrive as long as it is attached. It receives life-giving nutrients as part of the exchange, which requires its full surrender to the vine. The analogy is obvious. If we are to remain in the place of thriving and health, we must stay connected to our master and maker. There is a joy in doing so, even when life is happening all around us in a way we didn’t expect.

Circumstances can be difficult, sin issues can rage, but there is a place of calm and sustenance regardless when we rest in our place in the vine which is Christ and His unending flow of love for us. He relates to our suffering and misgiving and grief and yearnings. He knows well what it is to be rejected, even by those closest at times. He also lives to make intercession for us, which means whatever we are going through, He has already funneled his own intentionality of seeking our greater good through any and every circumstance of life. He is ceaselessly, changelessly good, and we can depend on him for all the things we do not understand and can’t see. His ways are higher than ours, his thoughts higher as well. His view encompasses the big picture, so we are extremely blessed when we can lay aside our own agenda and be Spirit-led. He nurtures us back to health when we are unwell. If can take some time and maybe even a little practice to get a grip on just how the Spirit operates. 

What is amazing is to contemplate who Jesus was in light of this subject of perfectionism. He alone was able to reach into the perfect heights of heaven, even as he stood on the earth and was laid in its depths. Not only did he weigh our debts upon his very being, he held us in the palm of his hand as a God who cares, as a God who wins and never loses. It is hard for us to fathom that in the paradigm in which we find ourselves. How Christ could come to suffer and die, and by that, be a winner. It makes me think that the lens by which we view winning and losing is itself warped to meet the individual rather than the greater, universal good.

How we hand off our weapons to one another is a great indicator of how we comprehend the things of the spirit. We know we are in the midst of a spiritual battle bigger than any of us: but the flesh has a perpetual bent to subscribe only to its own yearnings. We cannot share tools or weapons if we think it is only about our own advancement. The truth is that we really cannot advance without one another. The tools in our hands are our weapons in the spirit. They have mighty power for the demolishing of strongholds when consecrated to the work of God. Our weapons are what we use to protect ourselves, our livelihood, that of others. They may be actual tools such as computers, pens, notebooks, musical instruments, email accounts, paintbrushes and canvases: basically, whatever we use to communicate the good news of the gospel of Jesus. We are given them and we are given our speech, to share the good we have witnessed, and to let others know they can experience the undying love of a generous and compassionate Savior that loves to forgive and to heal and to reconcile. The blood debt was paid by the only righteous man that ever walked this earth. We can live and love and move as He did when we choose not to throw stones, but instead to help the hurting and the wounded to regain their lives again. Not all sin is the result of rebellion: some have had sins committed against them, and that is why Jesus said it is better that a millstone be put around the neck of the one who leads little ones into sin. We are not strong enough to carry this load ourselves. It was not designed to work that way. We need the help of Christ, whose yoke is easy and whose burden is light to make good on our promise to shine our light. We certainly want to bear fruit for the Kingdom, but He doesn’t expect us to do it without his help. Our work is first to believe! He positions us and puts us in places of respect not for our own glory but because it helps to point the way to His sinless son. People need to hear, need to see, need to know truth.

Peter was known as ‘the rock.’ He must have been a stubborn man! I am not unfamiliar with that kind of orientation. The rock is the absolute firmest kind of foundation. It will not move. Jesus is also described as a rock. With him is security, and firmness, unwavering truth, consistency, stability and surety. There is no place we can find any other so immovable and changeless.

Perfectionism is fictionalized wisdom. It takes the place of the read deal, which is raw and at times fraught with temptation and complaint. Such tendencies do not present an excuse to fail, but rather, are a humble admission of the sins that so easily beset the human condition. We can at times feel the need to patch ourselves up with this or that to cover over our own insecurities. Many people commit to things they don’t even want to do because they fear abandonment of people, opportunities and places as a result of their own lack of participation. It can be a great substitute for actually engaging in what one is called to do, which may seem too messy, risky, or just downright scary. We can become so obsessed with finishing well, we forget to really show up for the process that gets us there. And yet, that process is what makes us ready not only to finish, and to finish well, but to finish with understanding. We do not want to see things broken along the way, least of all, ourselves. We hunker down and wait for certain storms to pass until things seem staid and familiar again, until we feel perfectly safe venturing forth. This is actually what keeps us in a rut, prevents us from going to the depths we were intended to experience. We repeat a similar cycle over and over and over again, not realizing we are holding ourselves back from growth that will actually produce exponentially.

But what are some of the mindsets that keep us from following through with the true acknowledgement that none of us has it all together, we are all flawed?

By grace you have been saved, through faith; this is not of yourselves, it is the gift of God, so that no one can boast. It is a level playing ground. We need to see ourselves apart from the opinions of others. If we can only keep our head up when we are exposed to our own flaws, recognizing that we are all flaws, and all need the grace of God in order to continue on our path. We often create obstructions without even realizing it. It’s not even that we see ourselves as exalted above others, but we can absorb ideas from other places that seem like we’re being forthright and true when in reality we have constructed conditions to live under and by that bear no relation to any other reality than our own. 

One of the mindsets that keeps us trying to walk upright but that actually is a spongy foundation is the belief that we must hold it all together. Colossians (1?) says that “in him all things hold together.” What then is our part? We must come into line with the freedom that Christ paid so dearly to provide for us. His unconditional love, His mercy and unending grace are our sure foundation. When we fail, even after trying again and again, or perhaps when we fail because we haven’t tried hard enough, we need to know and to understand this great God we are born to know made us to experience love at a level which is beyond words. It is the fuel that motivates us to do what we are called to do, and it desires to return to the place from which it came, namely, the heart of God. It desires to increase, and to see others set free. No one ha ever seen the height or depth or breadth of this love. It is the place we came from, and for those in Christ, the place to which we will one day return.

When we step back and look at our progress as we go along in pursuit of whatever vision we are trying to fulfill, we may see plenty of places where our feet have gotten no traction because of being built on the sponginess of presuppositions that are not founded in anything more substantial than some general observation made about the culture, or what someone else of influence said needed to happen, or to settle some score with someone from the past, perhaps not even in one’s life anymore or not even alive. These are the kinds of motivations that can especially plague perfectionists, who not only try to do things right, but try to accomplish them well in terms of process. It is not possible however to walk and never trip or misstep. We don’t like to admit this, but it is the way of things, and try as we might, it is impossible not to have some trip-ups along the way. Perhaps the purpose of trip-ups is to remind us that it really isn’t all about us, and to breed compassion for those who are trying to get back on track in their lives and livelihood. We become connected to all of humanity with its foibles and flailings, and can admit to seasons in dry deserts devoid of faith and hope and love. We can be moved to reach out to those still in the desert place once we have moved on with the newfound understanding we have gained through whatever trial we’ve been led through. It is not enough to claim what Christ fought for, we need to become reconciled in our actions to live in accordance with what He has preordained for us to accomplish.

And yet, that sort of injunction can lead the recovering perfectionist squarely back to the place of frustration. As with any process, it takes time to not only figure out how to progress through what can be an uncharted territory to a place of reasonable forward momentum, but additionally, to relax and to relent. The relenting is the letting go of needing to be in control, to the place of simply dwelling.

The Imperfectly Perfect, even as the name suggests, is not something that is possible outside of the divine. It is a place of paradox, and there are many within our faith: the last shall become first, the first shall become last. Every mountain will be made low, every valley will be raised. The resurrection of the dead has taken place, new life has come from the place of destitution, and the old has become new! 

The plans God has for each of us is great, and greater than what we can know or produce on our own. We only need to give in to His greatness, His goodness, and acknowledge that He is so far above and beyond what we can even ask or think or imagine: and that is precisely what he wants to do in and through us to a waiting, wearing and watching world that needs to see the supernatural at work in the places of chaos and dismay. Sit back and enjoy the action of the Spirit as he does what He alone can do!

We sometimes feel like outcasts within our own souls and lives. We do not know which way is the way to go in order to live our best lives, even before God. Our best place is to try not to “do.” We are baited by the belief that the more we do, the better things will be when in reality, the more we wait (on God), the better things will be.

There is an addiction to always being right that gets in the way of true follow-through. In the struggle to always come out on top, certain processes are never undertaken that would ultimately lead to different outcomes if they were followed to their logical extreme. The obsession to always be right is a sort of idolatry that focuses on self, and does not know the path of humility, which does not mind taking the time to complete something properly, regardless of how that process may look. So, it seems there is an inherent superficiality to the perfectionist quest.

The rewards of not being so miserly focused on self are great. This writer is still discovering what they are, in glimpses that reveal this truth. But it reality, it is something I am still discovering and will surely be pondering its mystery for a long time. Examples can show up in all kinds of ways. When we were renovating our kitchen and needed to replace countertops, we found there was an issue with the placement of new pipes relative to the back wall of the where the new cabinetry was to go. The plumber was trying to explain how many elbows in the line he would need to employ to get around the new sink pipe. My husband suggested that the pipes instead run along the back wall, and which would require the simply yet elegant extension of the countertop edge by a few inches. Not only was it impossible to tell the countertop was a little larger than standard, but it resulted in a nice extra ledge for placement of dishes and related things. What had seemed like a problem, when reframed, literally turned out to be a selling point for the kitchen.

Another example: when I leave things in a slightly jumbled mess, it seems I always have what is needed at my fingertips for that next unexpected event. When I am being too neat and trying to control every element, some of the mess required for there to be fertile ground for that next breakthrough or project simply isn’t there.

Trying to maintain a balance between order and a relative degree of not so much chaos as happy randomness is the goal.

Perfectionism. Sometimes seen as an asset, but to those who suffer from its debilitating dictums cloaked as wisdom, a scourge. What exactly is it, or perhaps better framed in the negative: what isn’t it? While many treatises on the topic exist, this book attempts to diagnose the issue from the perspective of an ordinary person growing up with the sense that the extraordinary was something to achieve but was never actually attainable. I hope, through my own voice, experience, and that of the testimony of others presented within these pages to discuss alternative measures to making one’s way through the path of life that does not require a sense of being perpetually unequipped, lagging behind, and staying behind closed doors when ‘everyone else’ has come out to play.

Perfectionism is by definition destined to fail. Like placing fine glassware in the hands of a toddler. How do we thwart its seductive call to achieve what will always elude us? It goes without saying that a life journey does not rest cordially with anything even close to the concept of perfect. Several antidotes to the malady of perfectionism are suggested, not so much strident antithetical views. Let’s call ir for what it is: perfectionism is damaging. Yet, it cloaks its arrogant hopelessness in the clothing of excellence. How do those who have labored under the dictates of perfectionism, being told (whether by a voice from within or without, the result is the same)one is perpetually falling short, try to measure up, or you will work your hardest but you will never achieve enough.

How do we redirect momentum instead to the pursuit of excellence that sometimes shows up disguised as a mess?

Measuring Down

By no means do I wish to suggest that we should strive for excellence. In fact, striving for excellence is the only true antidote for perfectionism. But what that is needs to be more clearly defined, or it can look and in essence be no different than the death march of perfectionism.

We’ve all been told or made to feel at one point or another that we simply aren’t measuring up. What, exactly does that mean? If we are growing in maturity, we cannot reach a stature until we have developed into it. There are no shortcuts—strength is the measure of patience being worked out through diligence and consistency.

But why we do it is the difference! When we recognize that we merely reflect the light not of our own making, our efforts are to position ourselves to more fully receive it. A holistic leveling must take place that views the self as unconditionally loved, no matter the stage of development, and embraces the progressive path of growth, with all its yearnings, setbacks, pitfalls and misjudgments. It recognizes that just as all have different gifitngs and capacities, stamina and energy is not equally apportioned: we can only “live up to the measure we have already attained.” That means not comparing ourselves to others. One person may seem to excel in an area when actually putting forth little effort—whereas another may seem to enjoy only mediocre outcomes, but if the amount of dedication and energy invested could be seen, it would reveal a different story of success.

While there certainly are exceptions, most of us are raised to avoid messes, senseless roving and the stupor of the unknown.

Perhaps that is the most culpable aspect of perfectionism: in the name of achievement and success, it fails every time as it is motivated by a desire to cover what is usually a deep-seated sense of shame by the premature appearance of something meaningful, worthy, significant.

Perfectionism operates from a place of fear, control, and often superficiality. It rejects process, hates trial and error. Hates mistakes, hates faith, and hates the abiding patience that ultimately leads to liberation from its relentless negativity.

And yet, we are called to: “work out our salvation with fear (respect) and trembling.”

Perfectionism is an attempt to appear well, to prove oneself as worthy. It works about as well to cover our perceived vulnerabilities as a fig leaf does for underclothing.

How to decimate perfectionism and its arsenal of criticism and negation? Consider first what it includes:

Fear of what others might say, do or think about you

Fear of failure

Fear of not having enough to do what you’re called to do

Being overly critical of self and others

Skeptical about or unable to receive one’s own accomplishments

Countermeasure: Humility

An honest appraisal of one’s limitations and places in need of growth or shoring up is the first step to fruitful humility. It is key to note that the very places we need strength are the places we need encouragement and affirmation in order to be fortified to move in honor and grace. For some, and perhaps for many, our original foundation was subpar: either kicked out from underneath us, rotted out by neglect, or perhaps never really existed. We can ask that the resources of heaven be allocated to the places inside missing something. And from there, to rest assured, not on our word or the words of others, but solely on the word of God which states for reasons both of bolstering and practical application that “His strength is made perfect in (my) weakness.” The transformation is usually a process that spans a lifetime.

That is why, when surrendered, we can literally boast about our shortcomings; God gets the glory for being the restorer of all things.

Countermeasure: Freedom of Choice

Also known as freewill, divinely given freedom of choice is a ‘perfect’ example of how a perfect God allows the imperfection of man’s at times faulty choices to manifest. It bears noting that perfectionism and control often go hand in hand.

[blank page with this verse only: Perfect love casts out all fear. ~I John 4:18

Fear vs. Love

There are times where it seems fear is the only choice, where worry seems inevitable. Interacting with our shame over our inability to not fear or not worry is a defeatist tactic, even if well-meaning. The way to not fear or not worry is to not introduce another negative onto the scene, but to actually move in the opposite spirit. A friend once made the point that since worry is employing imagination negatively, why not imagine something positive instead? It is all conjecture, and what is to be gained by imagining scenarios which may never exist? It is actually a form of deception when believed, and actions are taken to thwart a potentially ill outcome.

Since perfectionism is all about creating an experience of that which is perfect, it is also laced in deception. Anyone who believes it is possible to be perfect is behaving in a childish fashion. I think it may be true that whoever finds themselves in bondage to perfectionism has a childish mindset, which lures them into the place of trying to accomplish that which can never be achieved, at least not how its been envisioned.

Grace

We all need a bail out at times, and sometimes it occurs naturally or by way of happenstance. Grace is a very needful element dwelling in a fallen realm where mishaps are more common that not, where entropy and the Second Law of Thermodynamics is the way of things. We are all fallen creatures, and yet, there is a dynamic at work that transforms our way of seeing ourselves, seeing the world, and seeing each other. Grace is a direct result of the Father’s love for us, and He has commanded a blessing wherever we place our feet as we reside in that place. It is a place that offers us room to move around, to play, to grow, to be, to breathe. We are all equally in need of grace, even if the need for it shows up in different ways at different times in each of us.

Understanding that it is going to look different for different people is part of growing one’s perspective on exactly what grace is: it is a multi-faceted wonder of God’s own creation. It is what covers things when there is not enough coverage;

He comes in and offers to help, to share of his goodness, to fill in the cracks, to repay the damage, to make the wrongs right. Then, He also uses the damage, the troubled places, and begins to rebuild something new out of the wreckage and the chaos. He doesn’t do everything for us: He has made us to be builders, too—created in His image, and created to be stewards of this good earth and of each other’s heart and well-being.

We can get so caught up in the hurts of this world, we begin to think as the world thinks, with distrust and skepticism. Unfortunately, people break their word in many ways, and sometimes we get on a carousel of cynicism. It doesn’t help when we allow ourselves to become callused by circumstances, which prevent us from seeing things as they really are.

We have been called to renew our minds, to keep our hearts and souls refreshed with the edges of heaven, that which we can glimpse with our mortal beings, not worn down by the rough edges of this earth. We are beings intended for light and glory, and yet it is easy to get mired in the cares of the world. We’ve been intended to be translators for the weary travelers of this world that a place of true perfection and peace exists, and a new earth will one day replace this one.

How do we handle the disappointments of the perfection we still have a divine blueprint of in our sometimes faltering hearts? We know by hard-learned experience that this world lets us down in countless ways, and yet, we retain a sense of how things are meant to be. As long as we know that our sense of that which is right is not always going to be realized, we have come a long way to being free of the heaviness which inevitably comes alongside a shattered dream. We can fight and chafe against circumstances which we wish were different, but the causeway of grace is what is going to bring us through every time. It doesn’t mean that we will necessarily be on board with how things go, at least initially: but it does mean that what is best will take place, given all the moving parts. What our God can see is so far beyond the scope of our imagination, it would be silly to think that what we understand is in any way near what He can, and not only that, but what He can do given our various degrees of separation from the realities of this world, and realizing His glory in it all, and our own glory that He gives to each of His children.

Stewarding the glory he gives to each one of us is the key to the puzzle piece that always seems lacking. We begin to slowly redefine perfection on His terms, not on our own terms. It isn’t some magic trick or sleight of hand, it is reality that He can and does create and call things that are not as if they were, and if we are dwelling in a place of obedience, how much more we can see! We are called to be co-heirs with Christ, not merely servants, and yet, Christ humbled himself as a servant. It was his choice to do so, and we are offered the same choice. We may know it is what is best, but until we actually walk in the humility of Christ, there are depths we will never understand, and places in the spirit we will never experience. His love over and through us will be the same, that will never change: but our ability to co-create will be diminished.

The ultimate form of the Imperfectly Perfect is when we join ourselves to Christ. He has made a way for us to do so, and he willingly gave up the benefits of being a son of royalty to do so. He modeled a pattern for us to follow, and wants us to demonstrate that same to each other.

There are times we feel ashamed, debased—beyond humbled, actually demeaned. This is not the space God would have us move in. He gently heals and cleans us, removes that which takes the form of destitute thinking and replaces it with His judgment over us, that we are clean, that we are free, that we are desired and moveable within this created realm to affect other souls for the kingdom. He wants us to take ownership not so much of our power as of our vulnerability, where we get to reside in the place of His ownership of us. He wants us to let go of what we cannot control, and to let the light of His love shine over the places we cannot see or understand.

Partnering with the divine is not natural, it is supernatural. We have to let go of what we seek to deliver, and instead, see about delivering what He has for us to deliver. What is great is that the pressure is off of us to try to be perfect. We try instead to be whole, in terms of completing what needs to be completed, but not endeavoring to extend ourselves beyond what we can handle. God wants to make up the difference for us; he only wants us to admit our weakness, and then, to see that He is strong in the very place of our weakened areas. He wants us to wholeheartedly enter in to what he’s planned and pre-ordained for us to have and to do while on this earth, and when we do, we are able to see into the Kingdom and that which is beyond what we could ever endeavor on our own.

The Imperfectly Perfect, even as the name suggests, is not something that is possible outside of the divine. It is a place of paradox, and there are many within our faith: the last shall become first, the first shall become last. Every mountain will be made low, every valley will be raised. The resurrection of the dead has taken place, new life has come from the place of destitution, and the old has become new!

The plans God has for each of us is great, and greater than what we can know or produce on our own. We only need to give in to His greatness, His goodness, and acknowledge that He is so far above and beyond what we can even ask or think or imagine: and that is precisely what he wants to do in and through us to a waiting, wearing and watching world that needs to see the supernatural at work in the places of chaos and dismay. Sit back and enjoy the action of the Spirit as he does what He alone can do!

We sometimes feel like outcasts within our own souls and lives. We do not know which way is the way to go in order to live our best lives, even before God. Our best place is to try not to “do.” We are baited by the belief that the more we do, the better things will be when in reality, the more we wait (on God), the better things will be.

There is an addiction to always being right that gets in the way of true follow-through. In the struggle to always come out on top, certain processes are never undertaken that would ultimately lead to different outcomes if they were followed to their logical extreme. The obsession to always be right is a sort of idolatry that focuses on self, and does not know the path of humility, which does not mind taking the time to complete something properly, regardless of how that process may look. So, it seems there is an inherent superficiality to the perfectionist quest.

The rewards of not being so miserly focused on self are great. This writer is still discovering what they are, in glimpses that reveal this truth. But it reality, it is something I am still discovering and will surely be pondering its mystery for a long time. Examples can show up in all kinds of ways. When we were renovating our kitchen and needed to replace countertops, we found there was an issue with the placement of new pipes relative to the back wall of the where the new cabinetry was to go. The plumber was trying to explain how many elbows in the line he would need to employ to get around the new sink pipe. My husband suggested that the pipes instead run along the back wall, and which would require the simply yet elegant extension of the countertop edge by a few inches. Not only was it impossible to tell the countertop was a little larger than standard, but it resulted in a nice extra ledge for placement of dishes and related things. What had seemed like a problem, when reframed, literally turned out to be a selling point for the kitchen.

Another example: when I leave things in a slightly jumbled mess, it seems I always have what is needed at my fingertips for that next unexpected event. When I am being too neat and trying to control every element, some of the mess required for there to be fertile ground for that next breakthrough or project simply isn’t there.

Trying to maintain a balance between order and a relative degree of not so much chaos as happy randomness is the goal.

The best of lessons are often learned in direct contrast to the subject we strive to master. We pray for things like patience: and rather than receiving what looks like an upgrade in long-suffering, instead, we find ourselves in a bevy of events that tests us to the core.

Regardless of faith orientation, or lack thereof, it might nevertheless be said that moving with a secured sense of calm in the midst of life’s challenges can require nothing less than a supernatural act.

Looking at my own track record as a perpetually sleep-deprived mother of two young children, I can often be tempted to believe that the state of mind which leads to operating from a place that looks even remotely calm and peaceful is simply not accessible in certain circumstances. But when the fearsome alternative is considered, I am compelled to ask: is it possible to abide, and therefore respond, from a deeply centered place of calm, no matter what form the whirling dis-integration takes?

In these fleeting minutes, I am grateful for the freedom that breathes through the written word in which to ponder the “yes” that speaks like a quiet hope within. Like peeking behind a seldom-opened closet door, I find the following concepts to be beautiful weapons at the ready, poised for a take down at the next onslaught of discord.

How incredible to think that Christ came from the heavenly realm, drenched in joy and perfection, to enter our fallen realm to bring us to the place of surrender, the very root of peace itself:

“because of the tender mercy of our God,
by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven
to shine on those living in darkness
and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the path of peace.” (Luke 1:77-79)

The emphasis here on tender mercy is astonishing. When patience wears thin and the temper wells up to the tipping point, the last thing usually thought of and the most needed is tenderness. Mercy. Purest grace. It is often not what we think we need, and definitely not what we feel we deserve. And yet, it is the divine antidote to our condition. How well our Creator remembers we are formed from the dust, and to it we will one day return.

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. (Colossians 3:15)

To think of peace ruling and reigning at the heart level is profound: but the skeptic inside wants to question if this is really possible. What herculean strength must be mustered to exercise such a decisive level of authority to even make this plausible, let alone possible? And yet, the opening word catches my attention with the simplest of guidance: “Let.” In other words, we step aside, and we let Peace take control. We allow it central place, choosing to give permission for it to essentially take over and do its thing. We authorize and empower it to rule, through no other effort of our own. Easier said than done? Maybe. But how can we gain if we never reach for what we have not yet attained?

Jesus reveals the answer to us, point blank: I have told you these things so that you might have peace… (John 16:33)

May we remember: the Prince of Peace himself has said it; the Word has the final word, thank God. He came to destroy darkness not only of action but of thought that keeps us from seeing the light and life that He brings to the heart hungry to move in the dignity of love. May it be so.

Conception and growth to maturity, whether in the plant or animal world, is the mark of ongoing life.  Mixed in with the irrepressible frailties of procreative partners to inadvertently bring about their own undoing remains the ubiquitous drive for life.

In this comedy of errors, the urge for perfection is constantly brought into check by the lack of reaching it, despite our best attempts. And in that realization of one’s utter inadequacy to reach the pinnacle is the first step toward freedom.

As I write this, my four-year-old daughter sits at the opposite end of our dining room table, working out a puzzle. I love the symmetry of the moment as we both labor towards a finished piece, hers perhaps a bit more defined as such. And isn’t that what we who struggle with perfectionism work towards? A sense of resolve, of completion, a definitive conclusion.

Since beginning the uncharted course to get to the depths of what drives perfectionism to a place of personal and professional detriment, I have been delighted and somewhat astonished to observe a principle at work in the world that I call the perfection of imperfection. Imagery often delivers more than words themselves, so I will only present the concept as I am coming to understand it in a few brief sketches.

Even just musing on this principle of the perfectly ‘imperfect’ seems to be bringing degrees of freedom I’ve only in recently begun to experience.

Observations have included the following:

The random beauty of falling leaves in autumn; the whimsical twirl in the earth of that which is dead, finished, complete, and soon to decompose. And yet, arrayed in brilliant pigments, scattered loosely on the ground, no artist, engineer, scientist or poet could possibly lay them out with any more loveliness than the fingers of the wind.

I have noticed when my house is overly neat, I do not have items at my fingertips that in more creative bursts would be helpful, even needful. While a wildly disorganized environment is not the answer, there is a certain brilliance that seems to be resident when there is a level of creative chaos is present.

Several years ago, the creative arts church I was part of was doing its run-through before the service, which included elements of music, drama and dance. One of the performers was wearing a beaded necklace which broke unexpectedly in rehearsal. Without missing a beat, when the speaker ascended the stage and began his talk, he walked slowly towards the strewn pieces, and bending down, picked them up bead by bead, pausing at intervals to study one before hiding it in his hand, remarking how tenderly God picks up our scattered messes, holds and makes sense of them, in the way only He can.

Without question, the delivery of the message was made visually eloquent by the unplanned object lesson. The perfection of the broken necklace was a beautiful picture of this principle of the perfectly imperfect. Being tossed a curve ball, and catching it with ease, rather than attempting to ignore it or force the moment into the something it actually was never meant to be is the lesser choice. But perhaps even an imperfect choice can lead to a perfect solution.

As a recovering perfectionist (who just finished wringing my hands after losing a most “perfectly” captured string of words, precisely elucidating a tricky aspect of this discussion when my husband suddenly stepped into the room to let me know he was taking the garbage out to the curb), I know all too well the struggle to step from the allure of the golden wire stretched in front of our every endeavor, tempting us to walk the thin line of victory based on self effort alone, into that which we seem to fear most: a sloppy finish at best, an unfinished one at worst.

Perfectionism is a sorry and often sorrow-filled state of affairs: it is, by its’ nature, a walk with grief and chafing, as we are constantly reminded not only of our own shortcomings, but that of those and the world all around us. Fault-finding becomes our default, and even when we attempt to present a sunny visage to those around us, like the picture of Dorian Gray, we hide the slicing, critical thought processes that drive us behind a manufactured smile.

It engenders a brittle existence, and its insidious goal is the cessation of productivity and the honor that accompanies the grace of honest effort. It operates alongside pride, which tells us we will make the first line on the page when we know it will appear precisely as it should be. This not only creates tremendous (and yet, often easily toppled, more on that later) obstacles to forward movement, it assumes that there is knowledge of what is “perfect”—the standard of which, if it really does exist, is a measure only within, the ultimate hubris.

For the believer, the remedy is quite simple: to repent of making oneself the standard, and agree to come in alignment with the heavenly standard, which is only supernaturally attained, and may even look like less to our natural inner eye.

Jesus was maligned by the hypocritical clergy of the day for not “appearing” holy or righteous, according to their conceptual array of best practices. But before we think we are off the hook, let’s admit most of us would never have arranged things as God did to introduce His son to the world—a controversial, scandal-inducing conception; a birthing in the least likely of places for a King—a horrifying death. Yet, what place on earth truly had the level of majesty due the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, the Creator and Word Made Flesh? Something else was at work that mortals usually fail to grasp, and it is only glimpsed in tandem with humility. Pride must be flushed away for this to be possible.

The abiding sense of grace that Christ give to His followers is free of charge, does not come only to the vetted, the strong, the pure, the pleasurable, but to the besotted individual (of which we all are in our flesh) who simply says yes. And then, the transformation into the perfection offered in Christ alone is made complete—also an offense to our pride, which perpetually wants to make it on our terms. And thus begins the messy, glorious process of becoming more like Him.

At one point or another, some of us become aware of a foul chimera that needs staring down: silver-tongued, dark-hearted and ultimately shame-inducing, perfectionism robs many of us of the ability to enjoy life on the simplest of terms. Particularly for those involved in creative pursuits, it is an all-too-familiar soul entanglement. Posing as a pursuer of excellence, perfectionism grasps for what can never be attained then beats us up for not being capable enough.

In the legitimate and genuine effort to do what is right and best, the spirit of perfectionism lurks about, pleasing others in the name of love, offering superior service or doing good deeds—all noble impulses. But the longer we allow this specter to walk alongside, the more skewed our perspective becomes. If we not only let it remain but operate in agreement, we will ultimately labor under a delusion that we are perpetually failing, even if to the rest of the watching world, we are at the top of our game.

Because the term “perfectionism” suggests something we commonly consider to be a value, I would like to think of a different term for what I’ve come to be live is a malady on par with alcoholism or other self-destructive addiction. If you can bear with a bit of linguistic folly here, “defectionism” might be a more appropriate term, (except for political nuances to the definition which do not apply); but it does capture a sense of the penchant for perfectionists to only point out what is wrong, and not allow celebration of what is right. Building upon this, perhaps a term more suited would be “dearth-affectionism”—as the breeding ground for perfectionistic tendencies is almost always if not entirely due to a lack of felt affection and affirmation from those we most need or needed to experience it from.

Call it what you will, perfectionism keeps us back from leading the life we long to live, that we sense we are capable of, and yet feel denied of at the same time, by virtue of some elusive, un-nameable sense that nevertheless claims our best attempts and renders them short of the goal. At first thought, ‘perfectionism” would seem an unlikely suspect in what many of us grimly attest is an equally unquantifiable but nevertheless subtly relentless penchant for subtle forms of self-sabotage. And while sabotage can absolutely be a contender resisting us on the path to actualization of our goals and dreams, we often underestimate the part perfectionism plays in that process.

First: many of us view, or have at one time viewed perfectionism as something a bit grand, something to laugh off as our tendency to be overly particular and precise.
However, perfectionism is not about doing what you do with excellence. It is instead the unattainable endeavor to procure a sense of security with one’s identity by attempting to make oneself worthy, yet sadly, on terms that can never be met.
 

While easily overlooked, it is nevertheless a truism: we find time to do the things we love. We do not always have much say in the affections of our heart. There are things we love that do not induce us to be more of what we are intended to be. Excess clutter forms when we pursue things outside of our essential fountain of life that flows from the center of our being, and is intended as a life-giving force first for our own stability and well-being, and secondarily yet just as importantly, to those around us.

Some of the ways clutter forms and slows the growth flow is meaning well, but not doing well. (IE, thinking and dreaming without much action to put and form things into place that will build the momentum and grace to see our vision through, and others come to pass.

We can get caught in a trap of denial as to what it will cost us to see our particular walk of life through to its logical aim. Many of us get sidelined in wishful thinking, without prayerful doing. Our Creator perpetually stands by to bless our actions borne of honesty, and is not looking for perfection, who always gives us grace to begin again not matter how short we may have fallen.

Another common trap is fear of what others perceive of us. We all need some wiggle room to think, to plan, to grow. Sometimes the arrogance of others catches us by surprise: we feel hung up before we are ready to be on display. We feel judged, roughed up by reactions that were premature in the giving. This can stunt healthy forward thinking to a great degree, and needs to recognized as the obstacle-maker it is before we can be fully fledged and ready to move on to a place of greater self-realization.

Ironically, self-denial can be a means to putting actions into place that needed to be present all along. “The one who seeks to save his life will lose it, and the one who loses his life for My sake and the sake of [the good news] will find it.”