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Writer's pictureJackie Doss

Those Sinister Glass Beads

I fingered the beads in the tray. A shiny one with swirls of greens and luscious blues caught my eye. It had so much beauty to offer, and it was unique. I couldn't find another one like it in the tray! It would be a shame not to make something exquisite using this bead.

But I'm not artsy-craftsy. I don't do beadwork. That was my story... and I was having a hard time sticking to it.



I arrived at the seminar retreat filled with anticipation. I would finally get to meet my Incubator mentors face to face, along with several other 'musicianaries' on their roster. Good things were going to happen here! While we were waiting on everyone to arrive, Tami invited us to do a craft project to pass the time and enjoy an activity together.

Little did I know that this harmless activity would reveal a nasty secret about me: I am a perfectionist. Gasp! I've never thought of myself as a perfectionist! But put me in front of a collection of glass beads, invite me to make a bracelet, and see what happens.

Well, here's what happened: I froze.

Usually when I'm faced with a craft project at an event, I just grab my guitar and hide in a corner. I feel confident about playing and singing, but not very confident at making things that look pretty, especially things that require time, patience, and lots of choices. I don't like ending up with a finished product that looks like it was made by a kindergartner. Why waste the time and materials?

Here I was at this special retreat. It was my first time to meet everyone. I wanted to get to know them. So I certainly wasn't going to go sit in a corner. While the other ladies laughed, joked, and joyfully chose beads to string, I used the excuse of 'I'm just not very artsy/craftsy,' all the while realizing that there was something more sinister at work: fear of failure' the very tool that the enemy uses to keep us from pushing forward to success. What I found out about myself that night was that, no matter how much I deny it, I am a perfectionist. But more importantly, pushing through discomfort to beat this type of perfectionism brings a lasting reward.

As I watched the others pick out beads and line them up, my head was swirling. I really wanted to make a bracelet, but it was just too much pressure! How could I decide which beads to use out of the thousands of possible combinations? What colors do I wear the most often? What jewelry do I already have?

It would take way too long to make a decision and THEN actually string the beads. And if I strung all of them and then realized they were unevenly matched, or the bracelet was too long or short, I'd have to unstring all of them to add or remove a bead. It was overwhelming!

I decided to watch everyone else's creativity unfold and simply enjoy the laughter and camaraderie. Wasn't that close enough to a perfect evening? Why did I need to create something that I might not wear? Why waste the beads?

Tami helping Judy with beadmaking

I was raised by two perfectionists. My father never drew a line that wasn't straight. My mother never sewed a quilt without perfect stitching. But all my life I have proudly proclaimed that I am anything BUT a perfectionist. I have a messy house. I forgive myself if I sing off key. I accept people for who they are, including myself. I'm the exact opposite of anal-retentive. I am an anti-perfectionist. Right?

Wrong. I am the perfectionist who would rather not try' than try and fail. I am the perfectionist who quits before starting, the frustrated artist who lives in the worlds of 'almost' and 'what if?'

But the beads were really pretty, and I had become obsessed with that one particular shiny blue and green bead. I tried to think of what I could do with one pretty bead. Hmmm. It certainly wouldn't look good hanging all alone from a naked wire. It was too big for a wine glass charm. And just carrying it around in my pocket as a memento? Nah.


But why should it be left in the tray, never to be gazed upon? I eventually stopped fighting with myself. Yes, my new friends had to restring beads because the lengths were wrong or the beads didn't match, and guess what? The world didn't end! They were holding out their wrists, admiring their colorful creations. Oohs and Ahhs filled the room.

Knowing that I would be the last one finished, and may possibly not even get finished, I started searching for matching beads. Then I measured the wire and began stringing. I had to start over once, but I pressed on. And I have a beautiful bracelet to show for it. Whenever I look at it, I'm not only reminded of a wonderful time with friends, but also of how God is working on my perfectionism, the perfectionism that I didn't realize I had!

What made me want to press on was, first, the shiny bead. It inspired me to want the reward of a bracelet. Second, I wanted a memento of the weekend. Third, while it might have been just a bracelet, it reminded me of a wound that needed healing: I was sick and tired of giving up on things and living with regret. It seemed like my life's story. And I wanted to start a new story.

Face it, the enemy is going to use whatever tools he can to keep us from accomplishing God's plan for us. Overcoming perfectionism one small task at a time is a great strategy for beating the enemy at his pathetic game. He uses fear of failure, fear of success, lack of patience, feelings of inadequacy. These are all lies from the enemy; they certainly don't come from our heavenly Father.

Are you tired of not accomplishing things? Do you give up easily and decide that something isn't worth the trouble? Even the smallest success can be salve to a wound. Why not start with something small? It may not be that great American novel you always wanted to write, or the dream career you didn't think you were good enough for' but pushing through to finish any small task is rewarding and builds confidence. Before you know it, your 'string of accomplishments' will turn into a beautiful piece of jewelry, a treasure you didn't know you had--- the ability to accomplish those bigger dreams.



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