High Maintenance Man

I’m not quite sure how to take this: I was searching for some clip art for the phrase “high maintenance,” and most of the results pictured women in a frazzled state. First, I’m married to the world’s lowest maintenance person. So these skewed Google clip art results came as a surprise. Second, I know plenty of gentlemen who have displayed their fair share of high maintenance behaviors—myself being at the top of the list. The sad truth is that I am only now realizing this fact (and I’m grateful for a wife who is quite understanding and patient): I AM HIGH MAINTENANCE. Heaven knows this is true—just not sure what took me so long to see it.

If one subscribes to Myers-Briggs personality types, as an INTJ it seems that I constantly process stimuli and ponder their implications. This unending thinking has some benefits, but it can also drain the life out of me. I find it very hard to unwind, to enjoy life, and to take things at face value. I half expect I would be diagnosed for OCD if I really cared to go to a doctor about it.

I’m sure all of this is under the umbrella of perfectionism (and yes, I would admit that is a failing of mine). In fact, probably perfectionism and high maintenance are partners in crime.

Now all of that said, perfection is a concept that has its place in biblical theology and the Christian hope:

“I asked the Lord three times about this, that it would depart from me. But he said to me, “My grace is enough for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” So then, I will boast most gladly about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may reside in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, with insults, with troubles, with persecutions and difficulties for the sake of Christ, for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:8-10 NET Bible).

Paul was making a point that weakness is not a failing for the Christian servant, but rather can be a mark of Christ’s work in progress. Notice that Paul (in a very vulnerable moment) directly asked the Lord for the removal of his weakness (the nature of which was not revealed to the reader). Paul did not whine on Facebook or sit around in a coffee bar seeking caffeine consolation from his cronies. He went to Christ and three times petitioned for a solution. Perhaps one lesson I should take is that I cannot find my answers in another person, though certainly having people in my life is essential. Paul appears to model the proper attitude for believers (in the context, the Christians in Corinth were a bit of elitist and looked down on Paul’s weakness). That attitude is a paradox: when I am weak, in Christ I am strong.

So as one who readily admits I am weak, I hope to mirror Paul’s authentic humility as a broken vessel. Truthfully, I don’t feel content with weaknesses. Thus, it seems it is my lack of contentment that is the very weakness through which Christ wishes to demonstrate his power. I do not know what that will look like exactly. Perhaps that is the very first step I need to take – to let go of knowing every step – to discover contentment by telling Jesus every morning this day will not be perfect, and I will fail. Blessed be the Lord, who through my weakness can perfectly show what my life should be: in his grip.