Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist

Hi.

My name is Guy — and I’m a recovering perfectionist.

It’s been approximately 12 years since my then new bride called me out on my condition — primarily because I was beginning to impose it on her, and our young marriage. (Thanks Hunny!)

It probably took me another year or two to fully understand and embrace my imperfect reality of constantly striving to be perfect — at which point I officially entered into unofficial recovery.

I began to consciously tell myself that it was OK to not be the best, to not be perfect in everything I said and did.

Here I Go Again

Many times in ministry, especially college ministry, you feel like you are walking alone. Just drifting along, trying to survive, and isolated from others in ministry.

College Ministry has been described as the Navy Seals of ministry — It’s very hard work and no one ever gives you credit when it goes well (plus, some people erroneously call us Youth Ministers, a pet peeve of mine).

I am surrounded by a great church staff, but they often fail to grasp what college ministry is or have the tools to push me in my goals and desires.

Kingdom Work and Homework


It’s the dreaded college triangle. If you choose a social life and sleep, you sacrifice good grades. If you choose good grades and sleep, you give up the social life. If you choose a social life and good grades, then you won’t be getting sleep anytime soon.

The moment I thought I had the college triangle figured out, I began my life as a youth and college minister while still in school. At the age of 22, I was a senior in college, engaged to my high school sweet heart, and began serving as the new youth and college director. My college triangle now turned into a rectangle. So what do I choose now? Social life? Good grades? Sleep? Or ministry? What would be sacrificed because of my decision? These very real questions began to haunt my everyday life.

My #iMentor Story | Jamie Johnson

Sometime around the age of 13 a friend entered my life. This individual intentionally chose me, though at the time I did not know it. His name was Bruce.

Bruce’s investment in my life seemed inconspicuous. He was, after all, the Youth Superintendent for the Friends churches in the Pacific Northwest. He was paid to do this!

Bruce and I began meeting regularly as I was just entering high school. It seemed to me he had the ability to discern one’s entire life story by simply looking them in the eye.