Perfection

“I hoped to gain clarity on the matter with my fiancé, and I did, just not in the way I expected.”

I was totally blown away when Elder Patrick Kearon used the word perfect in a way that was immediately comforting, reassuring, and even beautiful.

Throughout the countless hours of hearing the music and lyrics repeated in the background of my day, there are important lessons that I am grateful my son is (hopefully) learning.

Here are four suggestions to change your social media experience so that it positively influences your life.

If you’ve ever wondered whether you have what it takes to make it to the celestial kingdom, then Robert L. Millet has a message for you.

The Provo Missionary Training Center (MTC) presidents told me two things: 1. Our son was being sent home from the MTC. 2. We needed to get on a plane as soon as possible to come get him. My heart was flooded with simultaneous emotions of bewilderment, anxiety, and sadness.

Just three things.

Recently my youngest child, Koleson, was given some simple yard work responsibilities. (You're welcome, kiddo!)

It’s a phrase I’ve said to myself many times before: “With God, you are enough.”

I didn’t change my Facebook profile picture for eight years.

These 3 false doctrines can become like a spiritual sickness that cause us to see ourselves in unhelpful ways.

Oh FHE. Sure we start out with good intentions. And it should be simple. A prayer. A lesson. A treat. So easy, right?

The gospel isn’t a celebration of God’s power to work with flawless people. The gospel is a celebration of God’s willingness to work today, in our world, in our lives, with people who clearly aren’t. To demand that church leaders, past and present, show us only a mask of angelic pseudo-perfection is to deny the gospel’s most basic claim: that God’s grace works through our weakness.

If I were to ask which of the Lord's commandments is most difficult to keep, many of us might cite Matthew 5:48: "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect."

In the Church, we often struggle with the idea of perfection. The Savior's command to "be ye therefore perfect" is a tall order. And in the age of Instagram and Pinterest—where everything is cropped and photoshopped to "perfection"—it might seem like perfection is far beyond our grasp.

The satisfaction that comes from self-improvement can be eclipsed by feelings of self-doubt, insecurity, or feeling like our best is not enough.

I'm exhausted by hate. And it is not the hatred that instigates genocide, burns villages, and breeds terror. That hatred breaks my heart, but it moves me to reach out, to fight back with love, and to rid myself of dangerous prejudices.

What a great reminder that no one is perfect and we don't need to compare ourselves to those we think might be.

There was nothing leading up to Mother’s Day 2006 that indicated impending doom. There was no foreboding music playing ominously; no dark clouds. In fact, that morning there were birds chirping and the light of warm, yellow sun spilling through my bedroom windows. Had the beautiful conditions of the day been any indicator, the day I’m about to describe would not exist in our family’s folklore. But alas, Mother’s Day 11 years ago will forever be known as the day I landed face down on the floor of the chapel, on top of my 3-year-old, in the middle of sacrament meeting, with my skirt flung over my head.

There are so many things I love about our Church culture—our outgoingness, our willingness to serve, our focus on the Savior and others, and the fact that no matter where I go, I instantly have a community I'm a part of.

Instead of setting the unrealistic ideal of perfection as our goal, we should strive to follow Gordon B. Hinckley's counsel of focusing on a little bit at a time: "Each of us can do a little better than we have been doing. We can be a little more kind. We can be a little more merciful. We can be a little more forgiving. We can put behind us our weaknesses of the past, and go forth with new energy and increased resolution to improve the world about us, in our homes, in our places of employment, in our social activities."

So you’ve set some goals to be better and, like every other year, at least a few will be dragged through the winter months before becoming fertilizer to the spring flowers of forgetfulness. And yet, goals are one of the things in life that we need to stay spiritually alive, whether we accomplish all of them or just a few.

How many of you can relate to this incredible story posted on LDS.org?

Latter-day Saints—we're so often our worst critics. We strive so hard to reach the standards we are taught through the gospel, but when we slip or stumble sometimes we forget that we also need to be patient and forgiving to ourselves.

Perfection: it's a difficult charge and a label that's impossible to live up to, but it's a standard so many of us set for ourselves only to find inevitable and sometimes crushing defeat. So what do we do? Hold back? Set the bar low? Here's one LDS woman's story of struggle and how she found a balance between pushing herself too far and giving up entirely.

What beautiful thoughts from this post:

Who can travel to remote corners of the world, run an award-winning, internationally recognized business, and still make plenty of time for his wife and kids?

MR says: As Latter-day Saints, sometimes we can be a little too hard on ourselves because we expect perfection now. Here are a few things we need to remember when we get frustrated or impatient with ourselves.

Gaylamarie Rosenberg and Denise Lindberg spoke to a women’s conference audience Friday, April 30, on how to strive for perfection without feeling guilty about being imperfect now.

“You’re such a perfectionist!”

When I was 14 years old I received my Patriarchal Blessing. This is a very special blessing for Mormons which is given by a man holding the priesthood office called “Patriarch”. We believe the words spoken by the patriarch come directly from God, exclusively to us. So, it becomes our own personal scripture. The Patriarchal Blessing is considered sacred and personal, so we do not discuss it at length with others.