Whose Yardstick Are You Using?

I am what the “Shrinks” call a perfectionist. Nothing is ever good enough to suit me (ask my family). For a perfectionist, no one and nothing ever measures up to his/her standards of good and right.  We carry a special yardstick to measure everything and everyone handed down to us by other perfectionists. We learn perfectionism; it's not innate. A perfectionist never sees the things that are going right in a situation. Instead, a perfectionist sees all the things that are wrong.  Put a perfectionist on a construction site and he won’t see how much progress made, but he will see how much is not done. Furthermore, he/she will use that yardstick to point out all the problems in the completed work.

Until a few years ago, I was unaware that I had serious problems with my own perfectionist tendencies. II didn’t believe I was a perfectionist. But the Lord knew. He began dealing with me through some research I was doing for a paper on, of all things, perfectionism, more specifically, religious perfectionism. I thought I had selected the topic, but maybe I didn’t. As the paper progressed, I didn’t like what I was discovering.

My studies included Jim Jones and David Koresh. Recognize the names? I found that at one point they both were very religious men, both with Pentecostal backgrounds. But they could never reach a place where they thought they could attain perfection as they perceived it, — they were never good enough to suit themselves. They moved from church to church, searching for perfection. In the end, they created their own religions to fit their perception of perfection. As you know, they failed and destroyed not only themselves but a great many other people as well.

Now most perfectionists do not become a Jones or a Koresh. However, the tendency to perfectionism appears to be strongest among religious people and we tend not to see it in ourselves. I wanted, no, I needed, to understand why this was so.

I discovered that somewhere along the way someone, probably a disillusioned perfectionist, concluded that we BECOME perfect by what we DO — our actions or our behavior make us perfect. Jones and Koresh turned to that belief with a vengeance.

I've spent most of my life trying to please everyone. The only person I never tried to please was ... me, because that was selfish, a sin, an imperfection. I discovered the all-consuming aspiration in my life was to BE PERFECT and to do that, I had to please everyone. My every thought, every action, every desire had to pass someone’s inspection, or I was worthless. I cared what people thought about me, to where what I thought about me was unimportant. And I was drowning in a sea of failure.  Why? Because it can’t be done. Human perfection is unattainable, at least, what humans perceive of as perfection is unattainable.

I was shattered by forces outside my control. All the years I had spent trying to do the right thing, say the right thing, look the right way, and think the right way were wasted. No matter how hard I had tried, I had failed. Someone ALWAYS complained. I never did or said the right thing. My appearance never measured up. I never looked the “right way”. And as to my thinking, well, everyone I meet thinks differently than I. I could not change what I was — HUMAN. I could not be perfect.

The primary definition of perfect is “without defect or blemish.” Therefore, anyone with even the slightest physical, mental, or emotional defect can never be perfect. We are all too fat, too skinny, too tall, too short, too stupid, too selfish, too lazy, too busy, too ugly, or too mean. Our teeth are too crooked, nose too crooked or long, our hair too curly, too straight, too short, or too long. Our feet are too big, or too flat. Our legs bow, our eyes cross, and our teeth buck. Our ears are too big and mouths are way too big. Never mind those spiritual defects.

Each time I have one of these “spiritual insights” into my nature, the impact of the discovery has devastated me.  This time I broke down and all I could say was “Lord, I’m sorry, I just can’t do it. I’ll never be good enough. No matter what I do, it is never enough.” I spent days crying and struggling with the revelation.

If you ever get to this point in your life, everything you thought was important means nothing when you measure it with the perfectionist yardstick. It still comes up short of perfect. From a child, I have heard the instruction on living a holy life. I have followed it to the best of my poor abilities and to the complaints of many. To other perfectionists, I have never been good enough. And as a true perfectionist, I can tell you I never met anyone I thought was good enough to go to heaven, especially me. Nuts, huh?

I heard someone ask, what if we get to heaven and find we are standing next to Paul? How will we ever measure up? Now a statement like that strikes terror into the heart of a true perfectionist. When I heard it, I felt an overwhelming sadness. Truly, there was no hope for me. I could never get to heaven if God measured me by Paul. My depression lasted for days. (You should know that perfectionist have self-esteem problems.)

I prayed, “Lord, I am not a Paul. I can’t be a Paul. I don’t know how. Tell me what to do.” For days, I prayed, but the old feelings of worthlessness were back. The voice of perfectionism is cruel and relentlessly taunts the perfectionist.

When I was pondering it one evening, a quiet voice whispered, “No Cindy, you can’t be another Paul. You can’t ever do the things Paul did. But I didn’t create you to be Paul. If I wanted a Paul, I could raise one up. If I wanted a Peter, I could make one. I created you to be uniquely YOU. I wanted you just as you are, capable of things only you can do. Paul couldn’t do the things you can do. I want you to do the things you can do, not the things Paul could do. And when you stand before me, I won't measure or compare you to Paul or anyone else. When you stand before me, I won’t see anyone but you. I won’t see anything but your heart, and it will be measured by mine.”

What am I saying here? I wonder about people who tell me how much they do and how good they are. Why are they telling me? And I wonder whose yardstick they are using. Mine? Theirs? Yours? Then I am reminded of Jesus’ words, “Be ye perfect, even as I am perfect.” Wow, that's some yardstick. I doubt any of us want to be measured by that one. Yet, that is the very measurement used.

So what did Jesus do that made him so perfect? If you think that what you wear is going to determine where you go, you’re in for a shock. Modesty is important, but we are going to be naked before the Almighty. And He'll look into our hearts before He looks into our closets. The Bible doesn’t tell me much about Jesus’ hair or clothes. Just as in Jesus’ day, today every religion had its own uniform.

The Bible tells me what he thought, how he acted (his attitude), where he went and with whom he associated. It tells me what he taught about living and dying. It tells me all about the heart of God but only precious little of the social life or what was fashionable during that time. I, and anyone else who studies this, have to depend on secular books to learn about most of the politics, fashion, and cultural practices of Jesus’ day.  Social anthropologists discovered this information from sources other than the Bible. And those sources are plentiful.

Many religious people equate perfection with what we do, where we go and what we wear. We even have scripture for it. “Without holiness, no man shall see the Lord.” We read a thousand things into those eight words. Holiness is about where we go, what we wear, and how we talk. Right? Well, while it's important, that isn’t correct.  This is one of those cases of an entire generation being taught something out of context. What it actually says is:

“Follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord: Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby many be defiled;” Hebrews 12:14-15.

Follow peace with ALL MEN?  Root of bitterness? Defilement? What do they have to do with holiness? I can't be holy and bitter? No. I can't be at war with friends, neighbors, family, and church and still be holy? No. I can remain pure in my heart if I dress right, walk right and spit white, but spread gossip, spite, and strife in the church or on the job? NO. You can’t BE holy if you have bitterness and are not following the way of peace. Peace and holiness must go hand in hand or bitterness will spring up and defile us. As a result, we can’t see the Lord. That’s the WORD. Bitterness DEFILES, and bitterness arise because we have not followed both peace and holiness. And it defiles not only us, but those around us. Strife separates, divides, and destroys peace. Therefore, those who are bitter and estranged from others will not see God. Even if they never associate with anyone outside the church or cover themselves in a sack from head to foot!

Just think, it won’t matter if you never touch an alcoholic drink, tobacco, drugs, or used curse words. How you dress won’t matter. If you never looked at anything ungodly or participated in things considered ungodly by others. NONE OF IT WILL MATTER. A single flaw in your heart will mean you've wasted your time. If you join a convent and shun the entire world, you must still follow peace and holiness. Peace and holiness are a state of mind and heart, not a state of dress, place, or action.

James 3:2 states, “For in many things we offend all.  If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to bridle the whole body.”  We all offend.  Follow peace.

Colossians 3:14-15 says “... charity is the bond of perfectness ...” and to “... let the peace of God rule in your hearts ....”

Charity is the cement that holds it all together. In the dictionary, I found half a dozen definitions. But charity, in theology, it's defined as “The virtue defined as love directed first toward God but also toward oneself and one’s neighbors as objects of God’s love.” However, my favorite definition of charity is “Benevolence or generosity toward others. Indulgence or forbearance in judging others.” The synonym for charity is mercy. Astounding.

Now get out that yardstick you’ve been using and check the measurements again. Compare them with the perfect balance of God’s Word. Before you go measuring anyone by your yardstick, you better be sure it measures up with God’s.

“Thou shalt not have in thy bag diverse weights, a great and a small. Thou shalt not have in thine house divers measures, a great and a small. But thou shalt have a perfect and just weight, a perfect and just measure shalt thou have: that thy days may be lengthened in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.” Deut. 25:13-15  

No one is going to measure up to your expectations. You won’t measure up to your own expectations if you compare yourself with others. But we aren’t supposed to compare ourselves with others. Our example was Jesus and the slogan “what would Jesus do” better be more that a bracelet on your wrist or a pin in your lapel. His expectations are all that matter. His Word is the yardstick by which we all will be measured.

Hidden In the Sand

One Saturday in the fall of the year I came across some Christian magazines that had lain around the house for months as I read an article here and one there. I had enjoyed them, but as I cleaned house that Saturday, I knew it was time to dispose of them.

             It seemed a shame to throw out magazines that cost me $3.00 a piece and which could still give someone reading pleasure. I tried to think of someone to give them to but no one came immediately to mind. Then I saw an envelope addressed to my youngest sister with my first published article and graduation pictures in it. I kept intending to mail it but could never remember. I grabbed it, shoved the magazines in, and mailed them a few days later.

             She called one evening some time later to thank me for the magazines and to question me. She told me she found a Post-it ^ã note stuck inside one of the magazines marking an article on anger, the topic for most of the articles in that particular issue.

             “I told myself,” she said, “there must be something in this article that you wanted me to read. I read the whole article but I couldn’t figure out what you wanted me to see.” 

             A few days after she read it she went to Wednesday night service. She was surprised when her pastor preached on anger, and he even used some of the same scriptures in the article. “I went home and read that whole magazine and cried. I didn’t  know I was an angry person,” she said. “I even took the quiz included in the magazine to see if I had a problem with anger. The more yes answers you had the more problems you had with anger.”

             “How’d you do,” I asked.

             “All my answers were yes,” she said.

             There is a strange story about that Post-it^ã note she found. In college I learned that Post-it^ã notes make excellent bookmarks when you are doing research. You can jot down information on them to make finding particular topics easier. Since I always had these little yellow bits near to hand they often wound up in my pleasure reading as well. That Post-it ^ã was not an indication to pay special attention to that particular article but simply marked the last article I read.

             When I told her this, we laughed together at her confusion. We also laughed at how God had to tell her twice that she had a problem. After we hung up, I laughed again, with joy at God’s amazing ability to use us without our even realizing it. I marveled at how God took several, seemingly random actions, a few useless magazines, and blended them together to make a lovely tapestry of blessing.

             I once watched a program which showed how Hindu priests performed a religious, meditation ritual in which they took sand and created a huge floor sand painting called a mandala. It was amazing to watch the creation of this sand painting. The sand was colored in vibrant reds, greens, blues, golds, black and white. While on their knees, the priests took tubes of this sand and placed each color with painstaking precision, creating symbols and scenes relating to their religion. It took hours of back-breaking work to create and everything had to be exactly right. When completed, they swept up the sand in a precise manner and disposed of it. Hours of work, representing devotion to their gods, disappeared in a few moments and the sand could not be used again.

             I nearly threw away those magazines. But God is into recycling, taking worn out lives or our junk and making a masterpiece. How amazing that I bought a magazine in the spring and received spiritual food and then, sent it to my sister in the fall just so God could get a message to her.

             Only a few days before my sister called, I told God I didn’t feel I was any use to him at all. I wanted so much to do something but felt that I was useless, with nothing to do for Him. I wanted to feel that I was contributing something to Him, that something I did pleased Him. I wasn’t a Sunday School teacher, or musician, or missionary, or SOMEONE. I told myself “No one needs me. There is no work for me.”

             Who implants the idea into our heads that the only ones who do something for God are those who sacrifice on the mission field, who preach to the lost, who teach Sunday School, sing in the choir, and do outreach visitation? Many believe that those without some actual, visible work are . . . failing God.

             I believed that, too. I never considered the countless times I prayed on my way to school or work, for my family, my friends, and my personal failings as doing something for God. I thought the times I spent encouraging them was nothing to God. I never considered that God might use the small, ordinary things that people would never notice. I did not believe the Creator of the universe would consider such small things important. Aren’t spiritual strength and greatness marked by great deeds and abilities? The little I find to do seems so unimportant and somehow, beneath God’s notice.

             Then I remember studying geology and the formation of various rocks and soils. I remember the first time I examined some beach sand under a microscope. We think of sand as simply tiny particles of quartz crystals, and it is. But in some places, such as the Caribbean, sand may have surprises. Just a handful of beach sand can be filled with tiny, microscopic shells, the skeletons of sea creatures, too tiny to see with the naked eye or even a simple magnifying glass. If you didn’t look through a microscope, you would never know they are there. Why would God care about such a tiny creature?  What purpose could it serve if no one even knows it exist?  I don’t know. But in the chain of life, it serves.

             God looks at the world through a microscope and to Him, even the tiniest efforts are enormous. Hidden beneath what we see as apparently meaningless, little things may lie great works for God. My work may be hidden, even from me; but it is hidden only when viewed by normal sight.

© July, 1998 Cynthia I. Maddox

The Reason for Blessing

I remembered something that a very old woman once taught me. Her name was Kate Fletcher. She walked everywhere she went, despite the ill fitting prosthetic leg, sometime even turning down rides because of the difficulty getting out of vehicles. When I knew her she was in her 80s.

Sister Fletcher was a member of my church and seemed to appear in my life when I needed a counselor. I was 18, newly married with no mother. She was a woman of great faith and wisdom, and more than once I sought her counsel. She never failed. More than once I showed up at her home after midnight and she was actually at the door looking out. On one occasion she said, "The Lord told me someone was coming but not who." Another time she said, "I was waiting for you."

I remembered a time when I was searching for something and I went to her home. She prayed for me and she told me, "God will give no one more blessing than they can handle." It was an unusual concept for me.  

God's blessings are unreserved in depth and scope. We have only to be faithful to our calling. But they are not endless and they are not without limit.

Parents reward their children based on how they behave. Yes, you do. Good behavior reaps good rewards. Bad behavior, if you are a good parent, reaps negative rewards. You wouldn't give a child an ice cream cone for slapping a parent or screaming at your guest. Well, maybe some people would, but they end up with odious children.

As your child grows, the rewards become more advanced. Good grades may get better and better rewards. Allowances increase based on performance but poor performance, poor grades reduce the rewards. You bless them according to how they preform. You may do other things for them for no reason other than because you love them, but there are blessing you give only because of what they do.

You may bless your teenager with an inexpensive car to do their running on but repeated traffic violation result in the loss of that blessing. They simply can't handle the responsibility of obeying traffic laws. You take the car and they take the bus. I've been here. The rule was your car, you 're fine. And they paid them. That is not a blessing. That is a penalty for not being responsible.

You may help your adult children with the down payment on a new home, if you have been blessed with the money to do that. They neglect to make the payments and they lose that home. They could not take on the responsibility of maintaining a home.

God blesses only according to what we can maintain. The concept she introduced me to that day has gotten me through some terrible times. The more I am responsible and the longer I am faithful, the greater the blessings become. There are times I'm overwhelmed at what I have received for no apparent reason. I am not blessed because I'm smarter or better than anyone else. I am blessed because God has trusted me with some things that even I didn't think I could handle. I don't always think I deserve things He has given me, but it isn't what I think that matters. It is what He thinks. And the knowledge that He thought I could handle something is a blessing and an overwhelming concept. Some days I'm literally stunned by it.

I know people who are constantly down on their luck. They can't get a break. Everything they do fails. All efforts to "get ahead" set them further and further behind. Nothing they attempt prospers. If you talked to them, they just don't understand.

In every case I've seen of people I know personally, I see the same thing over and over. Their walk with God had faltered in some fashion or ended. Their attitude, their behavior has become negative and sometimes, they are obviously not living as they know they should. They have gone farther and farther away from what they believed and become almost hostile. The blessings that once seemed to flow in, now flow out. But all they see is the falling tide, and the absence of things. They don't see the cause.

Like a child, they see everything that happens as unfair or someone else's fault. When a marriage gets in trouble, they need a new partner. Things would be better if I had a better spouse. When finances fail, it is the other spouse's spending that caused it. Or it is the other person's fault they lost the job. When children are unmanageable, it is the schools, friends, or other relatives' fault. Like all children, we refuse to look in the mirror and see that we are the reason that we are blessed or not blessed. Instead, we clench our fist, stomp our feet and scream, "IT IS NOT MY FAULT! I am a good person. I love God. I...... I..... I....."

My life is miserable. You heard me. I have pain so much that there are times I just want to die. Really. I don't say that much because the devil has a way of using our words to beat us up. In my mind, I know I don't want to die, but I want the pain to stop. Some days I can hardly walk. My legs won't work, my feet hurt, my back is in agony. I have family that I can see are not being blessed and I am struggling with watching them fall farther and farther away and deeper and deeper into trouble. They don't even see what is happening. They can't see the chasm that is looming at their feet. I spend days praying for something to wake them up. I lost my husband and best friend and I have no one to talk to and no one to turn to when I'm in pain and suffering heartaches. I spend hours in my home and no one calls or comes by. 

So, how could I see any good in all that? What can make up for the losses? Ah. I see things that no one else sees that I know are blessings I can't possibly have deserved. They wouldn't mean a thing to others, but they are enormous reminders that I am not forgotten by God. Yes, sometimes it seems like it but I know I'm not. I'm not a bestselling author, but Im blessed with enough talent to bless others with my writing. My husband died, and nothing can replace that, but because of his service and his faithfulness I have benefits. He took care of his family, was faithful to us and God and provided for us even when he was dying. He told me once that he believed his disability was a blessing from God and he never asked God to heal him. That disability resulted in his death. What he suffered resulted in my blessing and in my ability to bless others. I'm blessed with a job that allows me to meet my needs and provides me with health insurance. I'm not wealthy, far from it. Yet, I'm blessed enough to bless my church and my children. The lack of local friends resulted in a circle of online friends who I talk to several times a week. They make me laugh, encourage me, share their lives with me, and some of them pray for me. Those who don't pray, I know they wish me well. All the places in my life that hurt have had a blessing added to it.

I don't know why but God trusted with these things, the good and the bad. My life is usually chaos and I'm stressed and wounded and heartbroken. But in the middle of chaos there is the eye of the storm that I strive to live in. Sometimes the storm overtakes me. I'm overwhelmed by it but I have to keep moving in the right direction to find the eye again. I can't stop the storm. I can only stay in the eye.

Sister Fletcher was right. God won't bless anyone with anything greater than they can handle. It isn't good for us. What does that mean? Some blessings become our destruction. How many people have you seen on the news with millions of dollars and they commit suicide? They had everything but were not happy with the blessings. Why? Yes, I know mental illness explains everything. Its convenient. But it isn't always true. Sometime they get lost in the storm. How many divorced couples have you seen who were even more miserable afterward? How many people have you seen who left a good job for a better one only to find they hated it? How many people have you heard complain about all their troubles and you're wondering what's wrong with them because they have everything anyone could need? You know you have!

Like all children, we choose our blessings, and we choose our curses. You won't see it that way. That's unfortunate. If once you could see the flow of blessings as something significant, it would change your entire outlook on events in your life. If you can just connect the dots, you can see the complete picture. It isn't the blessing that is important. It is the reason for the blessing that is so important. 

I'm blessed, not because I think I deserve it, because He thought so. 

How much can God trust you?