Hendrickson Publishers - Giving Thanks for a Perfectly Imperfect Life

Introduction

If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.

John 8:36

I am a perfectionist. I admit it. I was, at one time long ago, pretty proud of the fact.

Looking back, I cannot for the life of me understand why I would have considered my perfectionist tendencies as anything positive and God-honoring. But I did. Just to prove to you that I know of what I speak, I will share with you a few of my earlier perfectionist, soul-crushing habits.

As a child, I recall being obsessed with symmetry. Pictures, books, rugs, knick-knacks, anything and everything had to square up in a perfectly balanced way or Id succumb to this irrepressible urge to fix it. I recall lying on my bed and looking around my bedroom, and if the tiniest edge of the curtain was even a bit crooked, I would quickly get up and straighten it.

Every night when I went to bed, I would make sure my blankets and sheets were pressed smoothly from every angle and tucked in just so. Then I would carefully slip in between the sheets and, you guessed it, straighten them again before closing my eyes. Oh, and my clothes had to be a perfect match in color too. Had. To. Match. I recall driving my poor mother to distraction with that particular perfectionist must-do. If you looked in my closet, you would have been impressed. It was perfect. From top to bottom, my clothes, shoes, and toys were positioned in proper order according to my perfectionist obsession for symmetry.

Now that you have the picture of how I dealt with my surroundings and possessions on the outside, Ill let you into the inner workings of my childs heart and mind. My inside was the mirror opposite of my perfect external world. Because of my fear-driven perfectionist tendencies, I strived for control in every area. I felt mostly anxious, afraid, and high-strung becauselets face itchildren do not have much control of anything, large or small, in their little worlds. I remember developing what I called my exit strategy for any situation I was uncomfortable with. I would imagine the worst that could happen (at school, at home, at my dance classes) and then create my exit strategy (or my coping plan), just in case the worst actually did transpire. I was contemplating these exit strategies as an early elementary-aged child. How sad is that?

Anyone who admires and desires to emulate the perfectionists among us has no idea the mental and emotional torture we perfectionists put ourselves through on a daily basis. How eternally thankful I am that God sent one of his ambassadors to me when I was twelve years old to share the good news of the gospel, whereupon I immediately repented and accepted Jesus perfect sacrifice on the cross for my sins. God knew my anxious childs heart was in dire need of saving, rescue, and eternal security. On that momentous and life-changing holiday evening just before Christmas, my new life began and God started the process of setting me free from the self-imposed perfectionist prison I had created for myself.