By Kathleen Merriman

J.M.J.

My old tendencies still tug gently in the corners of my thoughts. 

Even now, as I sit cross-legged to pen (or type) my thoughts, a spark of uncertainty flares up like an old wound that aches in a limb. 

How to even begin? I consider, hesitatingly. Should I even write this? It won’t be perfect. 

Then, grace enters. I draw a deep breath and whisper: Come Holy Spirit.

Hi. I struggle with perfectionism. Throughout different instances in my life, if I ever heard someone proclaim that they were a “perfectionist,” a quick judgment would be made in my mind. I’d glance at the person speaking and an interior resolve that their claim was a thinly-veiled cover for their desire to announce that they were good at everything. Braggery disguised as vulnerability. 

What can I say? I’d heard people state laughingly as they went about a task. I’m a perfectionist! 

Maybe the idea of being a perfectionist was painted in my mind as an undesirable quality because I’d once read a collection of stories from interviewers, detailing “do’s” and “don’ts” of the interviews they had conducted:

“What’s your greatest weakness?” corporate bosses would query in the interview.

“Well, I have to admit, I’m a little bit of a perfectionist,” came the frequent, tiresome reply. 

The verdict of corporate bosses? These quips reveal very little about a person’s skills and were often an inflated statement of ego. 

 More than this, I realized that when resumes list “perfectionism” as a weakness, it seemed like false modesty.  Moreover, it refuses to acknowledge in honesty the double-edged sword that perfectionism is. 

What is perfectionism?

Perfectionism: Noun: the refusal to accept any standard short of perfection.

In my own life, I have wielded the double-edged sword of this noun again and again. When I was in middle school, I remember my Dad coming home from a visit to my older brother’s college and describing a desk-sign he’d spotted in the office of the president of the university. The sign proclaimed in bold lettering: Good Enough Isn’t. 

Dad was impressed. Needless to say, the president’s plaque had elevated my father’s respect for both the university and its fearless leader. I, on the other hand, an impressionable, eager-to-please adolescent, was struck to the heart, especially because thereafter my Dad adopted it as a personal motto. When someone I respected believed in something, it sparked a desire in my heart to understand why. Over time, those three words–Good Enough Isn’t--became the rhythm of a drum buried deep in my subconscious, hammering a baseline throughout the melody of my life. This motto, paired with my own natural temperament, demanded nothing short of perfectionism. 

Why was and is perfectionism a double-edged sword?

Because it can both challenge me to be better while simultaneously chaining me to unrealistic expectations.

Here’s the problem: we can’t achieve perfection in this life.

This truth took me years to realize. As an elementary school teacher, I have witnessed first-hand the incredible perfectionistic pressure that many children put on themselves today. Maybe it has something to do with living in a fast-paced, career-oriented region of the United States (hello, Northern VA). But I’ve also seen this same fixation on perfection in a public school in Ohio, working with students with special needs in Tennessee, and in my own experience as a child. 

So…maybe this desire for perfectionism has less to do with location and more to do with a deep-seated realization that is carved into the hearts of every human being: we are not made for this world. 

And for some of us, that’s a little harder of a pill to swallow. Especially when surroundings and people demand that we be more, make more, achieve more, hone your skills. 

When this stream of messages become a source of constant fixation, these words grow to be not only toxic but utterly paralyzing. It is insanely devastating to come to grips with the reality that there will always be more or better ways for us to do something. It is deeply humbling to have ambitions of grandeur, whether driven by a healthy desire for excellence or a disordered obsession with perfection and then smash into the wall of our limitations. We strive, and sometimes–often–we come face-to-face with our human frailty and it takes our breath away. 

Why?

We weren’t created for this. These limitations–in virtue, in talent, in communication, in loving others–were not part of the original design of our Father’s brilliant plan for mankind. We were made for freedom. But through the choice of Adam and Eve, sin entered the world. Humanity, created in a state of preternatural freedom, was devastated by the limitations that sin introduced. But does this mean that we are destined to live a life wallowing in the remorse that mankind ever sinned? No! Contrarily, Christ offers us another path, a better way. We can still be free. 

What is freedom from perfectionism? What does that look like and how do we even begin?

I hesitate to say that I am entirely free from the temptations of perfectionism. This whisper of the evil one found its way into my head at an early age and proclaimed, You are not enough. Your worthiness is connected to what you achieve. However, years of growth and prayer and struggle and reflection have taught me a couple of basic things. I share them with you as a sister that is still on the path, journeying towards Heaven, with the hope that someone else can glean something from what God has taught me over patient years:

1. I have to acknowledge my own limitations. To look deep into my heart and face the reality that I will never be perfect and accept it. And on days when it’s a little harder to fathom, to pray for the grace to learn to accept it with greater humility. 
2. The Father sees me. He truly, really sees me. He sees my mistakes and quirks and worst habits and loves me anyway. In fact, He loves each of His children with an individual, whole-hearted love and He desires our joy. 
3. Striving for excellence and striving for perfectionism are two different things. It is good and holy to work hard, to sit back at the end of a long day and feel pride in your honest efforts, to put your nose to the grindstone for the glory of God’s Kingdom. It is good to call yourself to a higher standard of living and to surround yourself with others’ that desire you at your best. It is good to give a worthy task your all. However…everything must have a balance. We are human beings, not workhorses. We have rational souls and we need rest. We need to be okay with hanging our hat up at the end of the day, saying to the Lord, “I gave you my best. I gave you my all. Please bless my efforts.” And that is the beautiful part of our frailty, our limitations: Christ fills in the gaps. When we unite our efforts to the Lord’s, when we strive for excellence and not perfection, and offer everything up to the Father, a wonderful thing happens: He blesses the efforts, endows our lives with grace unimaginable, and suddenly, we are free from limitations that we set before. 

These lessons are not always at the forefront of my mind. I write them down to claim their truth as much for myself as, I hope, for someone who needs to read these words as much as I do sometimes. As American broadcast journalist Edwin Bliss once aptly stated, “The pursuit of excellence is gratifying and healthy. The pursuit of perfection is frustrating, neurotic, and a terrible waste of time.” Therefore, given only a short time on earth, why would I waste more time chasing down perfection? I am called to excellence. You are called to excellence. Not for the purpose of becoming superior and braggadociously waving our gifts in front of others to make them feel less worthy. Contrarily, we ought to pursue excellence for the sake of serving others. Only when we humble ourselves before the feet of our Creator, surrendering perfectionism and taking up His call to excellence, will we find the freedom to respond to His call and carry His love out into the world.