The Pressure to Be Perfect

(And Why it’s Killing Us)

The pressure to be perfect is everywhere.

Advertisers spend billions every year attempting to convince us that perfection is attainable. Models are paid millions to persuade us that perfection is possible. All that money and all that pressure is driven through avenues of attention that attempt to monopolize our thoughts, actions, and behaviors.

None of this is new to us, right?

…right?!

We’re all aware of the dangers of online advertisements, social media, peer pressure and more. And yet, the ache within us to achieve perfection, to achieve wholeness, rarely—if ever—ceases. 

Where does that ache come from?

One word.

Wounds.

The wounds or pain points in our lives serve as constant reminders of ways we’ve fallen short of becoming who we want to be.

If you desired to be a singer when you grew up and someone told you your voice was awful at age 10, then every time you open your mouth to worship is an opportunity to be reminded of the wound inside of you.

If you desired to become a professional athlete, then the one time you were called fat in the fourth-grade haunts you every time you go for that second plate or late night drive-thru run. 

Wounds not only remind us of our imperfection but distort reality in such a way that dissuades us from mustering up the courage to ever pursue it again. And instead of being formed in Christ, we press on in being shaped by the way of the world. 

When I was 10 years old, my dad—who was the Pastor of one of the fastest growing churches in Indianapolis—was caught in an affair with my mom’s best friend. And while it devastated me and my family, even after my dad was broken and our family was reconciled and healed, the wounds from that event have plagued me to this day.

In the last couple years, I’ve seen pastors across the country get caught up in viscous scandals and affairs and divorces and firings. And with every scandal, with every divorce, with every public shaming, this hypersensitive nerve is kicked into overdrive inside of me that sends me into a panic.

The wounds from my dad’s own affair are stirred up.

And if I’m being honest, every time I click on a headline, every time I open a Roys Report, every time I see a tweet condemning that pastor (justifiably) for what he/she has done, the wound feels pressed and fear takes over. I start irrationally imagining all of the ways that my sins, my failures, and my mistakes are going to be publicly exposed—viciously—for the world to see.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m an imperfect person.

“The wounds or pain points in our lives serve as constant reminders of ways we’ve fallen short of becoming who we want to be.”

I’m an imperfect husband, an imperfect friend and an imperfect pastor. But the way of the world has convinced me that I MUST be perfect—or at least present myself as such—or I’m a fraud. 

The irony in that statement.

We must fake it to look like we’ve made it. Because even though we all know that none of us are perfect, we still believe that everyone else is. 

There have been moments in my life where I’ve allowed the pressure to be perfect to rule my life. So much so that I’ve contemplated from time to time whether being a follower of Jesus is even worth it. Because I’ve thought, “who can handle this?” What person or pastor can walk in true integrity and character without looking like a fraud or a hypocrite?

The pressure to be perfect, the pain of my wounds has continually stunted my growth with a singular question: What if I’m found out to be the sinner that I am? 

Maybe you’ve asked yourself that question.

And the truth is that many of us answer that question in 1 of 2 ways: Either we hide behind the façade of comparison and judgement, or we start with the humble truth and work our way up from there. To many (myself included) the former often seems more appealing. We spiral ourselves into these online fantasies where the image we present directly opposes the inner character being formed.

“We must fake it to look like we’ve made it. Because even though we all know that none of us are perfect, we still believe that everyone else is.” 

I’ve fallen prone to this on so many occasions:

While I was struggling with immense doubt, I’d post online that I had so much faith in God!

While I was struggling with sin in my own life and in my relationship with my wife, I would post online that we were great! That our marriage was amazing.

And I remember feeling so…inauthentic, so ashamed, so empty. And it convinced me more than ever that when we allow the media to infiltrate parts of our heart that only God should have, we lose sight of who God has called us to be. The pressures of the world have mastered the art of getting us to believe things about ourselves, about our relationships, about the Church, about the world, about God that ARE NOT true. That perfection on our own is attainable. That self-fulfillment and self-sustainment is possible. That our lives are the sum total of what we own and possess.

All of this fueled me to ask another question: is there a better way?

And there is.

It’s the only way to live a life of true joy, peace, and love. It’s the Way of Jesus. 

In a world that says perfection alone is possible, Jesus says perfection—through me—is possible.

In a world that says the weight of it all is on your shoulders, Jesus says he can carry it.

In a world that says you must measure up in order to matter, Jesus says that he sees you, cares for you, accepts you, and loves you just as you are.

May today be the day that you set aside the pressure to be perfect. Instead, may you commit to living in the perfect grace, gentleness, and patience of a Savior who died for you. A man who loves you, all of you—the hidden parts, the evil parts, and the scandalous parts—forever and always. 

When we walk under the grace of perfection manifested in Jesus, rather than failing at attaining it ourselves, true life—abundant life—is found.

Be encouraged.