I’m Not Perfect

For we all stumble in many things. If anyone does not stumble in word, he is a perfect man, able also to bridle the whole body (James 3:2 NKJV).

In 2021, I had the privilege of portraying Dr. Anagnos in a local production of The Miracle Worker, the story of Helen Keller and her determined teacher, Annie Sullivan. Dr. Anagnos, Sullivan’s mentor, ultimately sends her to Alabama to work with the blind, deaf, and mute Keller. My role included a pivotal scene where I informed Sullivan of this life-changing assignment. It was a special moment when just the two of us were on stage.

Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, my mind went completely blank. Despite years of experience navigating such lapses—whether my mistake or a scene partner’s—this time, I was utterly stymied. I stumbled through incorrect lines before we got back on track and moved forward. It’s the only time I’ve ever completely lost my place during a performance, and it was devastating. I had failed my scene partner, who was understandably frustrated, and I felt the weight of my imperfection.

As an actor, I strive for perfection … to deliver flawless performances … to evoke laughter or tears … and to connect with audiences through my character and lines.

But I’m human … and I make mistakes. I’m not perfect.

Reflecting on this, I’m reminded of an instance from my junior year of high school. Six of my buddies and I bought firecrackers and recklessly shot them from a car as we drove through familiar neighborhoods, which meant that some of the residents knew us. One of my friends, who didn’t have a driver’s license was driving. While cruising up and down the street, a neighbor—who knew us all from church—recognized the driver and knew that he was too young to be behind the wheel. Unfortunately, she called his parents.

The next morning, the underage driver’s father called me and asked me if his son had been driving the previous night. Against my better judgment and wanting to protect my friend, I lied.

I’m human … I make mistakes. I’m not perfect.

Unfortunately, I’ve made many more mistakes in my life.

Looking back, I’m deeply remorseful. In both instances—on stage and as a teenager—I fell short. I stumbled. I was the furthest thing from perfection. Yet, I’m comforted by Paul’s words in Philippians:

Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me (3:12 NKJV).

Although I’m nowhere close to being perfect, that’s okay. What matters is that I continue to strive each day to reflect Christ’s love through my actions, words, and thoughts. My goal is to become more Christ-like, knowing full well I’ll never fully achieve it. There is only one perfect human: Jesus.

Though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered. And having been perfected, He became the author of eternal salvation to all who obey Him (Hebrews 5:8-9).

My sins, no matter how “minor” they might seem, separate me from God. Lying to my friend’s father, for example, was a glaring failure. Yet, I know God’s forgiveness is absolute.

If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9 NKJV).

Through confession and repentance, I’ve experienced God’s grace. Sin isn’t measured on a scale; whether it’s a “little white lie” or a more grievous offense, it all requires the same mercy. And that mercy is freely given to those who seek it.

The beauty of the gospel is that Jesus accepts us despite our imperfections. He calls us to His table, not because we are righteous, but because we are sinners in need of a Savior.

Now it happened, as He was dining in Levi’s house, that many tax collectors and sinners also sat together with Jesus and His disciples; for there were many, and they followed Him. And when the scribes and Pharisees saw Him eating with the tax collectors and sinners, they said to His disciples, “How is it that He eats and drinks with tax collectors and sinners?”

When Jesus heard it, He said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance” (Mark 2:17 NKJV).

No matter how far I fall short, I know I am forgiven and loved unconditionally by God. His grace assures me that I’m always welcome at His table. This truth gives me hope and drives me to press on, striving to live a life that honors Him, even in my imperfection.

And this truth applies to you, too. God’s love is vast and unconditional. He welcomes all who come to Him with sincere hearts, confessing their sins and seeking His forgiveness.

I am not perfect. We are not perfect, but we are deeply loved by the One who is.