My Perfect Month

November 22, 2017

By David Mizrany

Recently, I came to a wholly and thoroughly unsurprising conclusion: I am not good enough.

Now, of course, I know that no one can ever be “good enough” in this life. What would be more accurate, I suppose, would be to say that I could be much better. Admittedly, I am not as bad as one could be, seeing as I was raised in the love and admonition of the Lord in a home where rules and love were both dished out in their proper helpings. But, still, the inescapable fact is that I could be better.

So, recognizing this fact, I decided that I should do better. Could do better. Would do better.

And so began my midyear resolution. I would go, I determined, one month being as perfect as humanly possible. I would not get mad. I would be helpful. I would be encouraging. I would take initiative. I would not contradict unnecessarily. I would keep my room and work areas clean. Et cetera.

It started off very well. I helped on dishes every night. I bit back every angry or unclean word that sprang to my lips, no matter who was right. I was on time every day for every scheduled event. I took time in the Word more than I had. I cleaned and maintained my areas.

This lasted for almost a complete two weeks. Then, as it is wont to do, the challenge began to grow old. I had done it so far. It had been tough, but not extremely so. All it required was a bit of discipline. I had this. Of course, this train of thought obliterated my discipline, and I became relaxed and laid back in my focus.

Thus, I began to fall a little off track. I spoke in anger once, then twice. A few pieces of clothing began to take up residence outside of their allocated cupboards and drawers. I showed up late one morning. Then the next morning. Then the next evening. I wasn’t as helpful with the dishes.

And then followed a complete derailment of my pride-and-self-worth-inspired resolution. I had already ruined my month, what difference would being late yet again make?

As you can tell, my “perfect” month was far from perfect.

But I noticed something else when the month finished and I looked back on the effect that I had had on others. For the first two weeks, people had been cheerful, helpful, appreciative, and less nagging. In the next week I felt a distinct withdrawal of all these improvements, and by the final week they had been replaced by impatience, unhelpfulness, unappreciativeness, and nagging.

“If people had stayed helpful throughout,” I sighed wistfully, “I might have been able to do it.”

But the Lord tapped me on the shoulder, and I realized that my slide had not been a reactionary result. Rather, the way I perceived people had changed as I began to slip. As my patience with others dwindled, I was quicker to mentally label them as “impatient” or “judgmental.” As love begets love and iron sharpens iron, my attitude and behavior not only affected others’ behavior, but also how easy I was to work with.

The Lord also showed me something which was as unexpected as it was hard to swallow. He revealed to me that, although I may not have known it, deep down this challenge was fueled by pride and self-righteousness. Merely the thought that I could change the quality of person that I am by my own mind or willpower was leaning on the arm of the flesh. I had entered into my perfect month in an imperfect mindset, and foundationally that could never work.

But perhaps the most shocking thing that the Lord brought to my attention did not have to do with why, when, or even how I had failed. In fact, I wasn’t even sure this concept was from the Lord at first. He told me I was measuring success the wrong way.

My perfect month was a failure, right? Well, yes and no. As far as it being a perfect month, yes, I had messed up, no two ways about it. But in failing I learned some important lessons that will stick with me for a long time, and that caused me to grow and—dare I say it?—do better.

I don’t have to be perfect to do better. I don’t even have to be better to do better. I just need to be ready with an ear open to the still, small voice; a shoulder ready for the tapping, and a willingness to listen and learn.

I can never be perfect, but I can always do better.

That’s what my perfect month taught me.