I sat in the worn, faux leather chair across from her and tried to explain why I felt I needed to be there. I never really had trouble seeking help for my emotional and mental needs from friends and family when I needed it, yet here I was, sitting across from a therapist. I have always had an extreme personality. I used to see things as black and white and gave people little room to mess up in my life. And someone had undeniably messed up, and it had left me anxious and struggling to forgive.
After several sessions, I was given tools to help cope with OCD tendencies. And through those methods, and with the help of my church, I began to see how those tendencies had unfortunately dominated my spiritual life. The rigidity I imposed on myself and others, was not only crippling me emotionally and mentally, but my relationships with people as well. In this particular instance, perhaps it wouldn’t have been the blow it was if I hadn’t expected perfection in the first place. I was justified in my anger at that point, but not in my unforgiving attitude or demands for repentance on my terms.
My approach to spirituality led to unhealthy tendencies. I became hard-hearted and judgmental to preserve my own sanctity at the cost of those around me. But in what way is the meek, humble Savior I adore like that? God humbled himself to walk on earth with us. He drew in the dirt, he turned over tables, and he cried, feasted, celebrated and mourned. He lived perfectly in an imperfect world and did it embracing human emotions-his own and others- fully. If there’s no room in my journey to holiness for other’s imperfections, is there room for a perfect God?