Perfectionism is a constant companion. It can be quiet for days, weeks, sometimes even months. It’s biding its time, waiting to strike. When it does, it fights dirty. A kick or punch to the kidneys. An elbow to the center of the back.
God
Find a Quiet Place
You’re my quiet place of retreat;
I wait for Your Word to renew me.
— Psalm 119:114, The Message
The Approval Gods
Perfect love casts out fear. It also casts out the need to prove my worth. Worth isn’t found in performance and approval. It’s found in resting, in being.
Created to Create
My heart is astir with a good theme;
I address my verses to the King;
My tongue is the pen of a ready writer.
Psalm 45:1 (NASB)