I put lots of time into getting something just the way I want it, I have set ways of doing things, and I agonise over seemingly simple decisions. I carefully plan and prepare. I pack for holidays using a list, check my car before a long drive, read and re-read instructions.
If you're much like me, these probably sound like normal, sensible choices. But the more I interact with different people, the more I question why I do what I do.
This was highlighted for me recently when driving with a passenger, and there was a car parked in the spot I usually use to manoeuvre. When faced with an unexpected choice in the car, some people go into panic mode; others just make a snap decision and stick with it.
I will stop in the middle of the road to think about it (ahem...only if it is safe to do so).
I pack using a tried-and-tested list. Because I don't want to forget anything. And because I don't want to own up to having forgotten something.
I check my oil and tyre pressure. Because I don't want to break down, sure, but also because it's what I've been told to do, and if I do break down, I don't want it to be my fault.
I obsess over the detail of instructions. Because I don't want to make a mistake. I want to get it right on the first attempt, and I don't want to have to admit I misunderstood.
My careful actions all work for the avoidance of regret, of shame, and of looking bad. In short, my perfectionism serves my pride – it is sin.
I am proud of remembering things, having a clean record, and not missing details. These things might not seem like bad things, but when I hold my achievements and reputation more highly than the wise use of my time and more highly than the feelings of others (or, er, the Highway Code), there is clearly a problem.
And it's a problem that seems impossible to fix by myself. The thought of letting go of these things is horrifying, and easy to reason away. But perhaps when I next make a mistake – I am still human, after all – I could start by holding my hands up and admitting I am not perfect. And little by little, my perfect Maker can change my heart.
