One of my favorite childhood pastimes was holding concerts in my bedroom. As the lighting designer, I used a desk lamp that routinely overheated but did well to create a spotlight. As the stage manager, I transformed the desk into a platform. As the audio engineer, I prepared the boombox with the correct compact disc. At last, the soloist took center stage: I belted out for an audience of none.

My performances were a collection of songs by pop artists like Ashlee Simpson and Avril Lavigne. I also tackled soprano notes so effortlessly hummed by Kelly Clarkson and Christina Aguilera. Though there were tensions in my jaw and throat, my false belief insisted that I continue imitating the vocal flair of notable individuals. Why resort to my inferior voice and risk messing up, even before an audience of none?

As far as I can remember, these are my earliest tendencies of perfectionism. My personal demon disguised as an angel.

But this has been the year where I've begun confronting my perfectionism. It's a daily battle to relinquish a way of thinking and living that was once normal, and I'd be a fool to give myself all the recognition. Behind each victory, I have a squad of safe people--those speaking with truth and grace--who war beside me. Behind each victory, God's voice silences the severe, unforgiving voice.

My journey goes on with these hopeful reminders:

1. Have grace for yourself. God's not criticizing you, so you can stop condemning yourself. Unload your lofty standards. Let your stains and missteps add depth to your life story. Rest from the exhaustion to become a proper expert in everything, and embrace that your one or two gifts are enough. As Henry Van Dyke would say, "Use what talents you possess: the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best."

2. Endure less and enjoy more. Let your mind take a vacation every now and then. This isn't a campaign for complacency. It's an important interruption to the endless critiquing of the past and anticipation of the future so that your posture that was once in 24/7 survival-mode may relax in the present. I understand very few things are "small" to a perfectionist, but take it moment by moment to enjoy the small things in the here and now.

3. Your identity is in Jesus. Recognize that you're imperfect, which isn't synonymous with defective or unworthy. I don't know who or what deceived you into inheriting that lie about earning your worth, and I'm sorry it happened that way. The truth about your identity is you're inherently valuable. You can rest knowing that your worth was never rooted in your victories or failures, but in Someone who sees your imperfection and still calls you His masterpiece: Jesus.

Is perfectionism your personal demon? There is hope for releasing what is familiar for what is imperfect but true.