I went huckleberry picking early Saturday morning. I had flown into Lakeside, Montana a few days ahead of our Bible conference, so I could assist with the set up. It didn’t take as long as we anticipated, so one of my friends invited me to go pick huckleberries on a little dirt road further up the mountain. It sounded like a really unique experience, since these berries only grow for a short season in this one region of Montana. I knew going into it that I might not be able to pick a lot, since they are small bushes that like the steep sides of mountains and I have knees that don’t always cooperate. It was the experience I was going for, and I knew the view overlooking the valley would be spectacular. ​

It's true, I am a perfectionist. Most people who know me well would not be shocked by this declaration. I've always believed in the importance of doing my best and striving for excellence in everything I do. It wasn't until recently, while crying through the study of Ephesians  in the Bible Core Course that I am doing, that the Lord showed me where this perfectionism stemmed from. 

As a high school student, I was relentless in my studies. Not because I wanted to learn more or had a great hunger for knowledge, but because I was afraid of failure. Afraid that if I didn't get good grades, that somehow I wasn't good enough. The pressure I put on myself was insane. I would take ridiculous notes in every class and then go home and rewrite them until they looked perfect. On an assignment, quiz, or exam, if I didn't get a perfect score, I would cry and berate myself. Since the score wasn't perfect, somehow I wasn't perfect.