“If you have ever found yourself locked in a cycle of self-sufficiency and self-loathing and wondered how to get out . . . if you’ve ever longed to stop competing and comparing and just start living . . . if you’ve ever worried that your high standards are choking the life out of your marriage or your children or your own soul . . . take the first step on this road toward true Christian perfection.” (The Heart of Perfection, 27)
As a perfectionist, I often seek out God in the wrong places; I pursue perfection instead of holiness. I await his revelation in the flawless, impeccable, perfect moments. But my penchant for the ideal means that I often keep God sequestered to the sacred precincts of some faraway sanctuary instead of inviting him into the moments of my life when I most need him: the less-than-perfect moments. Recently, I learned a very messy lesson about the grace of God in the chaos of life when I accidentally unleashed a deluge of foam into the hallways of the Catholic high school where I teach.