When Good Becomes the Enemy of God’s Best
I'll admit it, I'm a perfectionist to my core. My world revolves around precise alignment, immaculate organization, and flawless execution. Spreadsheets must be color-coded, books arranged by genre and height, and every project I tackle must be completed to exacting standards. It's exhausting, really.
Lately, though, the Lord has been gently working with me to differentiate between excellence and perfectionism. Both seem similar on the surface, but their motivations are entirely different, and only one is pleasing to God.
Excellence is a spiritual discipline motivated by love for God. It's about giving your best effort, talent, and time because you love God and want to honor Him. It is a form of worship, and it is flexible and adaptable.
Perfectionism is a work of the flesh motivated by fear and a desire for control. It's about striving for an impossible, flawless standard to gain approval from others, to control the outcome, and to avoid criticism. It is a form of self-worship, and it is rigid and brittle.
Just an Ordinary Day…Until It Wasn’t
In our Bible Study last night, I had the opportunity to teach the story of a woman seldom discussed in Sunday School. Her name barely fills a few verses, yet her courage changed Israel's history!
The story begins with Israel under severe oppression from Jabin, a Canaanite king, whose army was led by the fearsome Sisera. God raised up Deborah, a prophetess, who summoned Barak to lead Israel's army into battle. Though Barak agreed, he insisted on Deborah's company, to which she replied, "I will surely go with thee: notwithstanding the journey that thou takest shall not be for thine honour; for the LORD shall sell Sisera into the hand of a woman" (Judges 4:9).
When the battle turned against Sisera, he fled on foot and sought refuge in the tent of Jael, wife of Heber the Kenite.
Timing Is Everything
Last Friday started like any other day. Jason and I accomplished various household and ministry tasks and then prepared for our daily walk with Tess, who was practically dancing by the door in anticipation. Just as I reached for her leash, Jason remembered one "quick task" he needed to complete before we left.
You know how those quick tasks go, right? They're never as quick as we imagine. What should have taken five minutes stretched into twenty, then thirty. Meanwhile, Tess's excitement gradually transformed into confused disappointment as she watched us bustle about, still not heading toward the door. Poor pup!
When we finally stepped outside, the weather had taken a dramatic turn. The cold, cloudy day had morphed into a miserable wintry mix of sleet and snow. Our pleasant walk turned into a rushed affair, with all three of us eager to return home as quickly as possible.
The Perfect Tree
A couple of weeks ago, Jason and I bundled up against the Welsh winter and headed to our favorite Christmas tree farm. For the past few years, we've made the journey to this quaint spot where the elderly owner greets us with his warm smile and fascinating stories.
This year was no different. As we wandered through the rows of fragrant evergreens, he shuffled alongside us, sharing his observations about his customers' varied preferences. "You know," he said, adjusting his woolen cap, "it's quite remarkable how everyone has their own idea of the perfect tree."
He gestured toward a towering specimen that must have been at least eight feet tall. "Some families," he said, "want the tallest tree they can possibly fit in their house. But then," he chuckled, "others prefer the smaller ones they can place on a tabletop."
I smiled, thinking of our Tess and her enthusiastic tail.
When Service Becomes Stressful
While the Bible doesn't tell us specifically what Martha was cooking, I have a feeling she wasn't throwing together a quick sandwich for Jesus and his followers. No, I believe she was preparing a feast. After all, it's not every day the Son of God stops by for dinner. If I had such an honored guest coming to dinner, I wouldn't serve Him a dish of Hamburger Helper. I would want to prepare a meal fit for a king, and I believe Martha felt the same.
But like many of us often do, Martha bit off more than she could chew. Her to-do list was long, and her strength was waning. Not only did she have to get everything done, but she had to do it to perfection. That means everything would finish cooking simultaneously, each dish would be delicious and cooked to just the right temperature, and everything would look just as beautiful as Martha envisioned. That, my friends, is a tall order. No wonder Martha was stressed!