Author: Imperfect Guy

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Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist – Part 124

Adaptive vs. Maladaptive Perfectionism

I’ve noticed something lately about perfectionism—sometimes it helps me, but other times it feels like it’s taking me down unproductive roads. Turns out, psychologists actually break perfectionism into two types: adaptive and maladaptive. Knowing the difference has helped me make peace with my own tendencies, and I want to share a bit of what I’ve been learning.

Adaptive perfectionism is the kind of perfectionism that pushes us to do our best. It’s about high personal standards, striving for excellence, and wanting to grow. I think of this as the healthy type. It’s what makes an artist keep refining their craft or a student commit to continuing learning. It’s about goals, effort, and improvement. And when it’s balanced, it can feel good. There’s satisfaction in finishing something and knowing you gave it your best shot, not to prove something to the world, but because it matters to you.

Maladaptive perfectionism is a totally different experience. This is the side that shows up as harsh self-criticism, constant fear of failure, and feeling like nothing you do is ever enough. I’ve been there: you finish something and instead of feeling proud, you’re focused on the one tiny mistake or thinking about how someone else could’ve done it better. It’s exhausting, and honestly, it steals a lot of joy from life.

A study funded by the NIH (National Institutes of Health) confirmed what many of us already sense intuitively: maladaptive perfectionism is directly tied to anxiety, depression, and even burnout. What really hit me is that this kind of perfectionism isn’t about healthy ambition—it’s about fear. Fear of disappointing others, fear of being exposed as not good enough, fear of failure itself.

So, how do we work with this?

For me, the shift started when I realized I don’t have to get rid of all perfectionism—I just need to work on making sure it’s the adaptive kind, not the toxic kind. Here are a few things that have been helping:

Self-compassion over self-criticism. It sounds cliché, but it works. Instead of tearing myself down for what’s not perfect, I try to speak to myself the way I’d talk to a good friend.

Setting flexible standards. I still value quality, but I’ve stopped demanding flawlessness. Sometimes 80% is more than enough to get the job done.

Redefining success. I’ve started focusing more on effort, learning, and growth, not just the outcome.

Letting go of “all or nothing.” Progress is still progress, even if it’s messy or slower than I wanted.

At the end of the day, perfection isn’t the goal anymore. Growth is. Excellence is good, but perfection is an illusion.

If you struggle with perfectionism like I have, know this: you’re not alone. And you don’t have to perfect your way into being okay. You’re already okay, right here, right now—with or without the gold star.

As I’ve worked through my own perfectionistic tendencies, the gospel of Jesus Christ has brought me a kind of peace that no checklist or personal achievement ever could. The Savior never once said, “Be perfect now.” He said, “Come unto me.” That invitation isn’t just for the polished or the accomplished. It’s for the weary, the broken, and yes, even the ones stuck in self-doubt and never-ending to-do lists. I’ve come to believe that Jesus doesn’t require flawlessness; He asks for humility, faith, and a heart willing to grow.

Ether 12:27 that has become a lifeline for me: “And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness.” That verse used to feel like a reminder of how far I fall short. But now I see it as a reminder that weakness isn’t a disqualifier; it’s part of the path. The gospel flips perfectionism on its head. Instead of earning worth through performance, I’m learning to receive grace through relationship. It’s not about proving myself to God. It’s about trusting that I’m already loved and that His grace is sufficient as I continue the journey.

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Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist – Part 123

Religious Addiction

When I read this post by Bethany Faden on Facebook, I could tell immediately that she was onto something. Rather than link to the post, I’m copying it here in its entirety and giving her full credit for it. 

Addiction, at its core, isn’t about pleasure-seeking. It’s about attachment substitution.

Most people associate addiction with substance abuse. But addiction can form around anything that provides relief from chronic dysregulation.

Religious addiction is not a rejection of God. It’s the misuse of religious structure in place of divine relationship.

It forms when spirituality becomes fused with emotional survival—when rituals aren’t a path to communion, but a way to numb shame, anxiety, or internal chaos.

This usually starts early, in homes or communities where emotional needs were suppressed or called selfish.

Where religious language moralized behavior but failed to validate pain. So kids adapt: they become spiritually high-performing—but relationally fragmented.

Their nervous systems learn: approval = safety, compliance = worthiness, silence = peace.

So they cling to the architecture of religion—not because they lack belief, but because belief alone never earned them the love they needed.

We must distinguish religious addiction from real discipleship.

Addiction is rigid, anxious, and externalized.

Discipleship is grounded, transformative, integrated.

One demands perfection to feel secure.

The other invites wholeness through grace.

This isn’t a call to leave religion—it’s a call to disentangle it from the wounds that distort its purpose.

Healing doesn’t mean abandoning spiritual practice. It means stopping the escape from the vulnerability that allows real transformation.

True faith doesn’t punish your humanity—it redeems it.

True religion doesn’t require your disappearance—it requires your presence.

If you’re compulsively striving, emotionally numb, or afraid you’re never “enough,” even in your devotion—it’s not a weak testimony.

It’s a nervous system that never felt safe in love.

And that, too, can be healed.

You don’t need to abandon the sacred to become whole.

Just let God meet the parts your performance was protecting.

That’s not apostasy.

That’s restoration.

And it’s holy.

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Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist – Part 122

What does Jesus expect of you? 

This month, I’m going to refer to an article from the April 2025 issue of For the Strength of Youth magazine: Are You Expecting More of Yourself than the Savior Does? In this excellent, short article, Jessica Zoey Strong asks questions to help the reader determine whether unrealistic expectations are happening. 

• Do you worry often about being worthy enough?
• Do you feel you don’t deserve God’s love?
• Do you think the Savior’s Atonement doesn’t apply to you?
• Do you think the commandments have to be followed “just right”?

Depending on how you answer these questions, you may be dealing with perfectionism or religious scrupulosity. Read the full article here. 

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Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist – Part 121

To Him, we are delightful! 

After General Conference, for my monthly blog post, I usually choose a talk that deals with some of my perfectionistic tendencies. This time, the obvious choice is Sister Tamara W. Runia, First Counselor in the Young Women General Presidency. Here are some of my favorite quotes from her talk: 

It saddens me to admit this, but I used to measure my relationship with the Savior by how perfectly I was living. I thought an obedient life meant I would never need to repent. And when I made mistakes, which was every single day, I distanced myself from God, thinking, “He must be so disappointed in me.”

That’s just not true.

I’ve learned that if you wait until you’re clean enough or perfect enough to go to the Savior, you’ve missed the whole point!

Our prophet said, “The Savior loves us always, but especially when we repent.”

So when the Lord says, “Repent ye, repent ye,” what if you imagined Him saying, “I love you. I love you.” 

Picture Him pleading with you to leave behind the behavior causing you pain, inviting you to step out of darkness and turn to His light.

Picture your favorite image of Christ. Now imagine Him smiling brightly with joy each time you use His gift, because He is the “perfect brightness of hope.”

Yes, your repentance doesn’t burden Jesus Christ; it brightens His joy!

Let’s teach that!

Because repentance is our best news!

We don’t stay on the covenant path by never making a mistake. We stay on the path by repenting every day.

And when we’re repenting, God forgives without shaming us, comparing us to anyone else, or scolding us because this is the same thing we were repenting of last week.

He’s excited every time He sees us on our knees. He delights to forgive us because to Him we are delightful!

Your worth isn’t tied to obedience. Your worth is constant; it never changes. It was given to you by God, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do to change it. Obedience brings blessings; that is true. But worth isn’t one of them. Your worth is always “great in the sight of God,” no matter where your decisions have taken you.

This is one of the concepts that has helped me to become more shame resilient. I distinguish between my infinite worth and my behavior. Although my behavior may be maladaptive at times, my worth in the sight of God never fluctuates. 

You can read the full talk here. 

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Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist – Part 120

Psychodrama 

This month, I attended two events designed to help me develop my skills in facilitating psychodrama. 

The first was a weekend retreat sponsored by The Crucible Project. Here’s some more information about the organization as taken from their website:

Focus:
The Crucible Project aims to create a world where people live with integrity, grace, and courage, fulfilling their God-given purpose. 

Method:
They achieve this through transformational retreats, groups, and coaching, fostering communities where people live authentically and with integrity. 

Retreats:
These retreats are designed to challenge individuals to take a hard look at their lives, wrestle with God, and discover new truths about themselves, finding freedom to break away from self-sabotaging beliefs. 

Intense Experience:
The Crucible Weekend is an intense experience that can be emotionally, spiritually, and physically challenging. 

Radical Honesty and Grace:
The retreats emphasize radical honesty and grace, creating a space for individuals to wrestle with God and discover new truths about themselves. 

Community:
The Crucible Project fosters a community of men and women who have gone through the retreats, providing support and encouragement. 

Locations:
The Crucible Project has retreats in the United States, International locations, and Second-level Weekends. 

Vision:
Their vision is a world of men and women who live with integrity, grace, and courage. 

Mission:
Their mission is to ignite personal change in men and women through experiencing Jesus, and taking a journey of radical honesty and self-reflection.  

The retreat I attended was held in Empire, CO, about an hour west of Denver, at the Easter Seals Rocky Mountain Village facility. Most of the meetings were held in a lodge, and we stayed in cabins with other men. There were 37 participants and about that same number of staff members. (In the photo, I’m kneeling in front, second from the left.)

The second event I attended was a one-day Guts Work Facilitation Training held in Taylorsville, UT. It was held at the home of a man who was willing to host it free of charge. Eleven of us were in attendance, men who had previously participated in the Mankind Project NWTA weekend. Three were staff members, and the other eight of us were attendees. 

I’ve had a lot of talk therapy over the years with various counselors, which has been great, and I’ve needed it. However, this approach was different in that it was more experiential, somatic, and physical. It aligns well with a book I recently studied called “The Body Keeps the Score” by Bessel van der Kolk. The central premise of the book is that trauma profoundly impacts the brain and body, leading to physical and emotional dysregulation, and that healing trauma requires understanding and addressing these physiological and neurological changes.

One of the main processes used to heal these wounds is psychodrama. Psychodrama focuses on a person’s real-life experiences and internal conflicts, allowing individuals to explore and express their emotions and experiences through dramatic action. While it can be used in individual therapy, psychodrama is often conducted in a group setting, where participants can act out scenes from their lives under the guidance of a trained facilitator. Put together, then, a psycho-drama is quite literally a “drama of the mind and soul.” 

In each psychodrama process, I was able to re-enact a painful experience from my past. The result of the process is that I’m able to receive closure and resolution. Technically I don’t actually change what happened in the past, but I’m able to change how I feel about what happened. This results in greater peace and freedom. 

Some of my perfectionist tendencies are the result of experiences I had as a kid, where I felt like I needed to be perfect in order to be acceptable. Of course, perfection in this life is impossible, so that created a lot of internal chaos. Working through the scenarios as an adult showed me that those expectations were unrealistic. I can approach myself with kindness and curiosity. I’m better able to give myself grace. 

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Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist – Part 119

C.S. Lewis on Perfection

I stumbled across a quote by C.S. Lewis that addresses perfection and how the Lord intends to perfect us. This is great!

I find a good many people have been bothered by what I said in the previous chapter about Our Lord’s words, “Be ye perfect.” Some people seem to think this means “Unless you are perfect, I will not help you”; and as we cannot be perfect, then, if He meant that, our position is hopeless. But I do not think He did mean that. I think He meant “The only help I will give is help to become perfect. You may want something less: but I will give you nothing less.”

Let me explain. When I was a child I often had toothache, and I knew that if I went to my mother she would give me something which would deaden the pain for that night and let me get to sleep. But I did not go to my mother—at least, not till the pain became very bad. And the reason I did not go was this. I did not doubt she would give me the aspirin; but I knew she would also do something else. I knew she would take me to the dentist next morning. I could not get what I wanted out of her without getting something more, which I did not want. I wanted immediate relief from pain: but I could not get it without having my teeth set permanently right. And I knew those dentists; I knew they started fiddling about with all sorts of other teeth which had not yet begun to ache. They would not let sleeping dogs lie; if you gave them an inch they took a mile.

Now, if I may put it that way, Our Lord is like the dentists. Dozens of people go to Him to be cured of some one particular sin which they are ashamed of, or which is obviously spoiling daily life (like bad temper or drunkenness). Well, He will cure it all right: but He will not stop there. That may be all you asked; but if once you call Him in, He will give you the full treatment.

That is why He warned people to “count the cost” before becoming Christians. “Make no mistake,” He says, “If you let me, I will make you perfect. The moment you put yourself in My hands, that is what you are in for. Nothing less, or other, than that. You have free will, and if you choose, you can push Me away. But if you do not push Me away, understand that I am going to see this job through. Whatever suffering it may cost you in your earthly life, whatever inconceivable purification it may cost you after death, whatever it costs Me, I will never rest, nor let you rest, until you are literally perfect—until my Father can say without reservation that He is well pleased with you, as He said He was well pleased with me. This I can do and will do. But I will not do anything less.”

And yet—this is the other and equally important side of it—this Helper who will, in the long run, be satisfied with nothing less than absolute perfection, will also be delighted with the first feeble, stumbling effort you make tomorrow to do the simplest duty. As a great Christian writer (George MacDonald) pointed out, every father is pleased at the baby’s first attempt to walk: no father would be satisfied with anything less than a firm, free manly walk in a grown-up son…. He said, “God is easy to please, but hard to satisfy.”

The practical upshot is this. On the one hand, God’s demand for perfection need not discourage you in the least in your present attempts to be good, or even in your present failures. Each time you fall He will pick you up again. And He knows perfectly well that your own efforts are never going to bring you anywhere near perfection. On the other hand, you must realise from the outset that the goal towards which He is beginning to guide you is absolute perfection; and no power in the whole universe, except you yourself, can prevent Him from taking you to that goal. That is what you are in for. And it is very important to realise that.

Here is another way of putting the two sides of the truth. On the one hand we must never imagine that our own unaided efforts can be relied on to carry us even through the next twenty-four hours as “decent” people. If He does not support us, not one of us is safe from some gross sin. On the other hand, no possible degree of holiness or heroism which has ever been recorded of the greatest saints is beyond what He is determined to produce in every one of us in the end. The job will not be completed in this life; but He means to get us as far as possible before death. That is why we must not be surprised if we are in for a rough time.

The command Be ye perfect is not idealistic gas. Nor is it a command to do the impossible. He is going to make us into creatures that can obey that command. He said (in the Bible) that we were “gods,” and He is going to make good His words. If we let Him—for we can prevent Him, if we choose—He will make the feeblest and filthiest of us into a god or goddess, a dazzling, radiant, immortal creature, pulsating all through with such energy and joy and wisdom and love as we cannot now imagine, a bright stainless mirror which reflects back to God perfectly (though, of course, on a smaller scale) His own boundless power and delight and goodness. The process will be long and, in parts, very painful; but that is what we are in for. Nothing less. He meant what He said.

C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (1952; Harper Collins: 2001)

The Lord’s work and glory is to exalt me. And He knows how to do his work.

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Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist – Part 118

Perfectionism and Religion

Whenever I see the topic of perfectionism show up in mainstream media, it has my attention. That’s why, when I saw an article in the Deseret News, I was particularly interested. The article Does religion lead to more or less perfectionism? discusses findings published in last month’s issue of the peer-reviewed journal BYU Studies Quarterly focusing on Latter-day Saints and perfectionism. Here are some segments I found intriguing: 

During a university meeting at the beginning of the school year, a therapist was facilitating a helpful discussion on student mental health. When toxic perfectionism came up, the facilitator mentioned in an offhanded way that we have a particular problem with this at Brigham Young University because of “the gospel.”

This statement was not much of a surprise given the seemingly common attitude that BYU students (and members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in general) struggle with perfectionism. Some have even suggested Latter-day Saints struggle more with perfectionism than those of other faiths — including a podcaster who called Latter-day Saints a “notoriously perfectionistic population.”

For a faith that accepts scriptures such as “be ye therefore perfect” (Matt. 5:48), these attitudes can seem hard to argue with. Even many members today seem to take for granted that religious people struggle more often with crippling perfectionism.

Yet at that time, there had been no research that compares the perfectionism of Latter-day Saints with that of other groups. Somewhat ironically, all the therapists and researchers who have said Latter-day Saints are higher in toxic perfectionism than others have done so in the absence of any research to substantiate the claims.

So we crunched numbers on the perfectionism from our “Family Foundations of Youth Development” study of the mental health of Latter-day Saint youth, where we’ve been following over 2,000 youth for the past six years (about half Latter-day Saint, half not).

When we looked at the initial results, it was clear the narrative we commonly hear did not fit the study data.

The most striking finding emerging in new research on perfectionism was that Latter-day Saints are less likely — not more — to experience unhealthy levels of perfectionism, compared with other groups.

Michael Goodman’s “Religion and Perfectionism” article provides the first-ever study known to examine these questions. Contrary to what some may assume, having a religious association or a belief in God tended towards lower levels of toxic perfectionism compared to those of no religion. At a statistically significant level, Latter-day Saints and those of “other religions” had lower toxic perfectionism than atheists and agnostics and former Latter-day Saints.

In addition to affiliation, religious salience (how important religion is to a person’s sense of self) was also connected to toxic perfectionism. Those with high religious salience were more than twice as likely to be low in toxic perfectionism.

Although this research may surprise the social media world, the research community should be unsurprised, since decades of research have found that religion is related to better mental health and Latter-day Saints are known for their strong religiosity.

It is not unlikely that the decline of religion in society is another reason for the rise in perfectionism.

Here are five takeaways from the report:

  • Not all perfection-seeking is the same.
  • Families really do play a significant role in how their children feel about growth, mistakes, and overall worth.
  • Toxic perfectionism really can hurt mental health.
  • One form of perfectionism, in particular, calls for healing.
  • Toxic perfectionism can push people away from God and religion participation.

I’ll let you read the whole article if you are inclined. I found it fascinating since it’s referring to people like me. Much of it resonated well with me. 

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Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist – Part 117

A New Year’s Theme

As I look at setting New Year’s resolutions, which is my MO at this time of year, I typically like to choose a word or phrase as a theme for the coming year. I haven’t settled on this one for sure, but I’m leaning toward “be still.” 

One of my favorite talks from this past October General Conference is the one by Elder L Todd Budge. 

It is interesting to note that the Japanese word for “busy,” isogashii, is made up of a character with two symbols (忙). The one on the left means “heart” or “spirit,” and the one on the right means “death”—suggesting perhaps, that being too busy to nourish our spirits can lead us to die spiritually.

The Lord knew—in this fast-paced world full of distractions and in commotion—that making quality time for Him would be one of the major challenges of our day.

President David O. McKay said: “I think we pay too little attention to the value of meditation, a principle of devotion. Meditation is one of the most sacred doors through which we pass into the presence of the Lord.”

There is a word in Japanese, mui, that, for me, captures this more faith-filled, contemplative sense of what it means to be still. It is comprised of two characters (無為). The one on the left means “nothing” or “nothingness,” and the one on the right means “to do.” Together they mean “non-doing.” Taken literally, the word could be misinterpreted to mean “to do nothing” in the same way “to be still” can be misinterpreted as “not talking or moving.” However, like the phrase “to be still,” it has a higher meaning; for me it is a reminder to slow down and to live with greater spiritual awareness.

God desires that we approach our time with Him with the same kind of heartfelt devotion. When we do so, our worship becomes an expression of our love for Him.

When our focus is less on doing and more on strengthening our covenant connection with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, these sacred moments will be enriched, and we will receive the guidance needed in our personal lives. We, like Martha in the account in Luke, are often “careful and troubled about many things.” However, as we commune with the Lord each day, He will help us to know that which is most needful.

Even the Savior took time from His ministry to be still. The scriptures are replete with examples of the Lord retreating to a solitary place—a mountain, the wilderness, a desert place, or going “a little way off”—to pray to the Father. If Jesus Christ sought quiet time to commune with God and to be strengthened by Him, it would be wise for us to do the same.

As we concentrate our hearts and minds on Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and listen to the still, small voice of the Holy Ghost, we will have greater clarity about what is most needful, develop deeper compassion, and find rest and strength in Him.

I’m grateful that I’m retired and have a little more time to pull back from the daily grind and find peace and calm. It’s nice to not feel the expectation of constantly needing to “get it right” but rather, breathe in the stillness. 

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Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist – Part 116

Healing the inner child

A few weeks ago I attended a retreat in Southern Utah, a “healing weekend” sponsored by Husband Material. I’ve attended other experiential weekends in the past and they have all benefitted me. This one was targeted at healing the inner child. My “inner child” represents the part of me that experienced childhood, including the joys, fears, wounds, and unmet needs from that time.

Many struggles in adulthood—like low self-esteem, fear of rejection, or difficulty trusting others—stem from unmet needs or emotional wounds from childhood. These might be from neglect, trauma, or even unintentional patterns passed down by caregivers.

Perfectionism can show up as a result of childhood traumas. 

The word “trauma” might seem a little extreme for what I’ve been through. When I think of someone being traumatized I usually think of a soldier who came home from the war with PTSD because he saw his buddies die. Or a child who was kidnapped and regularly abused. Or someone who was in a horrible car accident and people were killed. Those are big T traumas. 

Conversely, little t traumas could be like being teased or bullied in grade school. Or moving to a new town and being “the new kid” at a new school. Or not getting the desired attention from one’s parents. In these cases, the kid may be told to “buck up” or “just get over it.” And yet, any of these could have a big T effect on a kid. 

Besides big T and little t traumas, there are A traumas and B traumas. B stands for Bad. So these are when bad things happen—abuse, severe punishment, loss of a family member. And A stands for Absent. These are when certain things are absent in a kid’s life. For example, neglect, not receiving attunement/attachment, or being emotionally abandoned. A traumas can be as destructive as B traumas, particularly because they are more subtle and difficult to recognize.

Also, two kids may have experienced the same challenge; one would be deeply affected by it and the other wouldn’t. For example, the divorce of parents, or being adopted. Some seem to take it in stride and others are scarred for life. It’s all about the perception of the kid. 

If I don’t address these wounds, they can show up in unhealthy relationships, perfectionism, self-sabotage, or emotional reactions that feel bigger than the situation at hand. By connecting with my inner child, I can better understand where my feelings come from and treat myself with the compassion and care I might have missed as a child.

So that’s the purpose of the healing weekend. Healing allows me to show up as a more whole, secure person in relationships, free from the need to be perfect. This isn’t about pretending to be a child again; it’s about acknowledging that the experiences and emotions of my younger self still influence me. And it’s about giving my inner child the support and validation he needed but didn’t adequately receive as a child.

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Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist – Part 115

Feeling God’s Love

When I watch General Conference, I listen for specific guidance for those of us who struggle to feel God’s love. Elder Hirst’s talk stood out to me. Let me share some of my favorite parts. 

Perhaps you feel a long way from the love of God. Maybe there is a chorus of voices of discouragement and darkness that weighs into your thoughts, messages telling you that you are too wounded and confused, too weak and overlooked, too different or disoriented to warrant heavenly love in any real way. If you hear those ideas, then please hear this: those voices are just wrong. We can confidently disregard brokenness in any way disqualifying us from heavenly love—every time we sing the hymn that reminds us that our beloved and flawless Saviour chose to be “bruised, broken, [and] torn for us,” every time we take broken bread. Surely Jesus removes all shame from the broken. Through His brokenness, He became perfect, and He can make us perfect in spite of our brokenness. Broken, lonely, torn, and bruised He was—and we may feel we are—but separated from the love of God we are not. 

You might know something secret about yourself that makes you feel unlovable. However right you might be about what you know about yourself, you are wrong to think that you have put yourself beyond the reach of God’s love. We are sometimes cruel and impatient toward ourselves in ways that we could never imagine being toward anyone else. There is much for us to do in this life, but self-loathing and shameful self-condemnation are not on that list. However misshapen we might feel we are, His arms are not shortened. No. They are always long enough to “[reach our] reaching” and embrace each one of us.

When we don’t feel the warmth of divine love, it hasn’t gone away. God’s own words are that “the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but [His] kindness shall not depart from [us].” So, just to be clear, the idea that God has stopped loving should be so far down the list of possible explanations in life that we don’t get to it until after the mountains have left and the hills are gone!

So if God’s love does not leave us, why don’t we always feel it? Just to manage your expectations: I don’t know. But being loved is definitely not the same as feeling loved, and I have a few thoughts that might help you as you pursue your answers to that question.

Perhaps you are wrestling with grief, depression, betrayal, loneliness, disappointment, or other powerful intrusion into your ability to feel God’s love for you. If so, these things can dull or suspend our ability to feel as we might otherwise feel. For a season at least, perhaps you will not be able to feel His love, and knowledge will have to suffice. But I wonder if you could experiment—patiently—with different ways of expressing and receiving divine love. Can you take a step back from whatever is in front of you and maybe another step and another, until you see a wider landscape, wider and wider still if necessary, until you are literally “thinking celestial” because you are looking at the stars and remembering worlds without number and through them their Creator?

I wonder, if Jesus were to choose a place where you and He could meet, a private place where you would be able to have a singular focus on Him, might He choose your unique place of personal suffering, the place of your deepest need, where no one else can go? Somewhere you feel so lonely that you must truly be all alone but you aren’t quite, a place to which perhaps only He has travelled but actually has already prepared to meet you there when you arrive? If you are waiting for Him to come, might He already be there and within reach?

Being filled with God’s love shields us in life’s storms but also makes the happy moments happier—our joyful days, when there is sunshine in the sky, are made even brighter by the sunshine in our souls.

Let’s become “rooted and grounded” in our Jesus and in His love. Let’s look for and treasure experiences of feeling His love and power in our lives. The joy of the gospel is available to all: not just the happy, not just the downcast. Joy is our purpose, not the gift of our circumstances. We have every good reason to “rejoice and be filled with love towards God and all men.”