"The perfect is the enemy of the good." -Voltaire
How true this has proven to be in my life. The perfect crouches on my shoulder, disguised to look like an angel, when really it is a demon. The perfect entices me, becomes an idol, a false god, something for which I constantly strive. The perfect mom, the perfect wife, the perfect house, the perfect life.
Except in perfection, there is no room for grace. If we are capable of being perfect, we have no need for God or a savior. Perfection, then, would be a hollow prize; I could glorify myself and have faith and pride in myself, but I would still be missing something-- something that is more complicated and much more treasured than perfection. God. Love. Forgiveness. Grace. Humility.
He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? -Micah 6:8