Perfectionism is a Lie

Perfectionism is a lie. I’ve been thinking lately about how I want to operate my blog and what kind of writer I want to be. This line of thinking was sparked by my completion of the most well-written book I’ve ever read, Atlas Shrugged. Ayn Rand wrote this book to convey her ideals regarding politics and philosophy. She writes about such complex and difficult subjects, yet she is able to break them down and convey her philosophies regarding them with such precision, clarity, and intelligence that the typical reader has no trouble understanding her ideas. I don’t agree with all her philosophies, but in terms of sheer writing prowess Ayn Rand is my idea of the perfect writer. Upon completing her book, I thought, “If I could write at her level, I could have an even greater impact on the world than she did.” My own writing paled in comparison; I felt inadequate and unqualified for what God is calling me to do. It was so grueling just to reach the level that I was at. 

Suddenly, I was a kid again. My teacher was asking the class to write a few sentences about themselves. I sat staring at a blank page for God knows how long, the whole while trying to order my thoughts enough to write one sentence. It took minutes of relentless effort to come up with a string of words that made sense. Then in frustration, I would discard them without taking the step to put them down on paper because it wasn’t what I wanted to say, or it wasn’t true, or it was only partially true. Whatever it was, there was always some flaw in my sentence that I was hung up on. Then the assignment would end, and my frustration would flare.  Usually, my frustration would be directed internally, turning into self-hatred and low self-esteem. Other times teachers would treat me harshly for not participating in the assignment and I would lash out physically.

After reading Atlas Shrugged, I started thinking, “Who’s going to read my writing? Who’s going to care about what I have to say? My writing isn’t as clear, clean, concise, compelling, or persuasive as Ayn Rand’s”, I said, thinking of one of my recent drafts. Again, I considered giving up, of stepping off the path that God is calling me to walk down. It would be easier than putting my shoddy work out there to be judged, or worse, ignored. But, for the millionth time, I thought, “There’s no meaning in my life if I don’t do what God made me to do.” So, I take a step, then another, and another. Then I revise and do it again.

I used to struggle so much with writing as a kid. Anything that involved creativity was a struggle; that part of my brain was damaged. I needed everything to have order, to have a place, to be perfect. But, writing is pure creativity. It’s chaotic and messy. It’s a process that requires revision over and over again, and even for Ayn Rand, that process can never lead to perfection. The best that can be achieved is to reduce our flaws to microscopic sizes. We’ll never be completely rid of them.

The Enemy wants to keep you paralyzed. He’ll do whatever he can to keep you from writing down that first word or taking that first step. He’ll lure your attention towards what people think instead of what God thinks. He’ll trick you into comparing yourself with others so that you don’t notice how far you’ve come.

Some of the enemy’s best tactics use misdirection. They involve getting us to focus on the negatives so we can’t see the positives. By doing this, he steals our hope, drowns us in despair, and paralyzes us with fear. He tricks us into believing that our actions our incompetent, ineffective, and pointless. He is the voice in our head that accuses us every time we fall an inch short and criticizes every flaw. He says you can’t step into that yet, you can’t start right now, it’s not perfect yet. It’s not the perfect time, place, opportunity, or level of competency. You’re not good enough. If we listen to that voice, it will prevent us from doing anything meaningful with our lives. It will prevent us from walking out the will of God, which is the only thing that can provide us with true fulfillment.

There is no such thing as perfection, at least for us. Even the place that you imagine the starting line to be doesn’t exist. The starting line is where you’re at right now. So, take a step, then another, and another. Then revise. Take stock of what you’ve learned from those steps, then take more, and do it better. Let God transform you through obedience. The better you get at ignoring the enemy’s voice and focusing instead on God’s will, the more revisions you’ll have time for throughout your life. The next step doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be taken.