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The pounding against the back of my eyes shakes me awake, as the grinding of dry gears drills into my head.  I feel like I’m falling backwards and instinctively, I clutch for my pillow.  After several spins around the room, I crack my eyes open to the blinding light of a new day.  My brain throbs in protest.  I feel certain that any movement will be painful, but my bladder demands a genuine response.  As I push myself off the bed, a wave of nausea rises up to meet me, and I choke back the spasm in my throat.  The thought of dying seems preferable to the concept of vomit.

As I stumble through the kitchen, I notice that my purse is spilled out on the counter, and I wonder whether I’ve been rolled again.  It’s bad enough the residue these guys leave behind, but they want to steal my money too.  I suppose I could call the law, but how would I describe him.  My mind cramps as I try to picture his face.  I have a vague recollection that he was tall, but maybe that was the guy from last Tuesday.  I think his name was Ken, or maybe Jim.  It was loud and I couldn’t quite make that out.  In a wisp of clarity, I realize that maybe I just spent all that money, so I let go of that rope.

I hold on to the wall as I make my way back down the hallway and a surge of panic courses through me as I realize that I’m not sure what day it is.  I can’t afford to lose another job.  I fumble for my phone on the bedside table, noticing that it only has 15% charge, that I have six missed calls from my mom, and that it’s Sunday.  “Thank God” slips from my lips, but then I chuckle at the irony (Alanis Morissette would be proud of me).  My hands shake as I struggle to grip the bottle of my mental health meds.  I take two, knowing that I’m in for a rough day.  I swallow them down with a gulp from a glass of some lukewarm liquid from the windowsill.  My throat once again clinches back a spasm.

As my head crashes back to the mattress, I once again wonder about last night.  I seem to remember a guy, but maybe that was last Tuesday.  As my mind reels, the smell of the sheets cast a vote, and I lose any doubt about what transpired.  Indeed, the stains on these sheets testify to all the times I’ve passed out next to someone and woke up alone.  I try to console myself that it’s better this way.  No complications.  No messy relationship drama.  But the chasm between those who are willing to come home with me, and those who are willing to stay echoes in my soul.  They act like they want me, but they never actually chose me.  Somehow that seems even more hollow than being alone.  I feel like I want to cry, but my meds are doing their blessed work, as the numbness takes hold.

For now, I just need to sleep.  Maybe later, I can grab something to eat and by tonight I should be ready to go again!  See page 405 for details.

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In order to share God’s heart with people (Matt.28:19-20)

I must first have God’s heart for people


In order to have God’s heart for people (John 13:34-35)

I must be connected to God’s heart (John 15:5)

In order to stay connected to God’s heart

I must be willing to forfeit the prejudices of my own heart (Matt.16:24-26)


If I am not doing that on a daily basis,

I will simply promote the way that seems right to me (Prov.14:12)


And try to justify it with Jesus’ name (Matt.7:21-23)

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Something I’ve often heard over the years is that the things we do for the Lord must be “done with excellence,” and to be sure, there is some truth in that.  God absolutely deserves the best of our efforts and we do need to remain conscious of the fact that we are representatives of His kingdom.  To the extent that we are truly concerned about the quality of the offering that we bring to Him, I can understand this.  But more often than not, I’ve observed that this emphasis on excellence is rooted in our pride, our competitiveness, our sense of style, and in the perceptions of men.

 

Generally the things that we gauge excellence by are largely aesthetic in nature (i.e. pleasing to our senses), and are rarely spiritual in context.  I suppose that the deeper issue is what God views as excellent.  Does He find added value in the things that we do in the name of “excellence”?  From what I’ve observed, I’m doubtful that He does.  Have state of the art sound systems, jumbo video screens, padded theatre seats, more contemporary music, or cappuccino dispensers, brought the church any closer to the kingdom of God?  Have they made us any more relevant to a lost world?  I’m certainly not opposed to any of those things; in fact I appreciate all of them. I’m just suggesting that we don’t want to deceive ourselves about our motivations, or the eternal worth of such things.

 

The word tells us that God doesn’t view things as man does (i.e. based on outward appearances), but that He looks at the heart.  So we must ask ourselves, is a Pastor in an expensive suit a more excellent representative of the kingdom of God?  Are ornately decorated sanctuaries any more inviting to the presence of the Lord?  Is worship more pleasing to the Lord when it comes from a voice with perfect pitch?  Again, I’m not opposed to well dressed clergy, beautiful churches or talented singers, I’m just pointing out that those things are really aimed at making us more attractive to people, and not to God.

 

Is it wrong to make the church more inviting to people?  I’d say that it is not, as long as these things don’t distract us from the real work of the kingdom, drain resources that would be better spent elsewhere, and don’t create in us a false sense of accomplishment.  In the end, we will reap what we sow, and thus the more that we invest in the aesthetics, the more we will reap the superficial.

 

A step beyond the concept of excellence is perfectionism.  When someone is known as a “perfectionist”, we tend to admire them for their high standards.  But the truth is that perfectionism is actually a torment to the human soul.  It doesn’t just set high standards, it generally creates impossible demands.  The result is a constant state of dissatisfaction and often a steady stream of criticism.  It is ultimately a weapon in the hand of our enemy.

 

A perfectionist tends to walk by the ninety-nine things that went right, to get to the one thing that went wrong.  They generally breed frustration, exhaustion, and discouragement, wherever they go.  They often withhold positive feedback for fear it will result in complacency (e.g. it was OK, but I don’t want them to think that they don’t need to get better…).  There are some who may point out that God is perfect and that we are meant to be transformed into His image; but I’d submit that our destiny is not some contrived perfection that we create, but His perfection coming through us.  It is not found in our performance, but in our submission to His Spirit.

 

I believe that as the children of God we ought to aspire to high ideals, but we must also ensure that the standards we chose to enforce are in line with His value system.  Jesus told His disciples that the defining characteristic of His followers would be their love for one another, and that without this love we would have “nothing”.  If we are going to strive for excellence this would seem to be the area to emphasize.  I don’t believe that there will be points in heaven for style or presentation, so we need to ensure that we’re not sacrificing substance for good form.  There will be a day when all of our works will be tested in the heavenly realm and on that day I believe that we will find that much of what we’ve accounted as excellence, and even perfection, will be nothing more than kindling.

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