People who know me well would laugh to hear me say that I’m a perfectionist. After all, I’ve never been accused of being a neatnik. My cabinets aren’t neatly organised, and I struggle to keep up with things like important pieces of paper.
More than once I’ve sent a frantic text to a fellow dance mum or a dear teacher to try and retrieve the information that I probably accidentally threw away about the day’s recital or assignment. My closet is what you might call tornadic.
Still, there is an interesting side of me that longs for perfection, especially in the area of spiritual discipline. I can’t tell you how many times I have begun a study, a prayer journal, a book, a plan for regular evangelism, a daily prayer time, a Bible reading plan.
