perfection, pride, and humilty

I am a perfectionist. Its roots are deep and hard to contain.

I don't remember when this disease crept into my world. Maybe it has always been there. Maybe I've always been a big pain. Particular. The one with the oldest child syndrome.

I used to think that perfection was a good thing. I used to pride myself in my ability to do something right. To do something well. I didn't realize the toll it was taking on me. I didn't realize the lies and fears and ugliness that would bind themselves tight to the roots in my soul. So tight that now I can't shake it. I can't shake it. Believe me, I have tried.  

And now, years into this thing I can taste its bitterness on my tongue. I can see the consequences in every single choice I make. I hear it mocking me as I try to separate reality from perfection and find peace in the process. Perfectionism and pride, to me, go hand-in-hand. In my experience, there is hardly ever one without the other.

Perfection brings out my pride and pride makes me want perfection.

If nothing else has made me desperate enough to get this under control, I have something now. Her name is Lauren. I want to teach her that there is freedom in Christ. How can she know if her mother is walking around with a yoke of slavery? How will she believe if I don't show her? How can I show her without doing.this.thing? I will be nothing but a giant hypocrite if I don't live the freedom (from perfection and so much more) that Christ gives me.

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Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will lift you up. James 4:10