A Thing Worth Doing

“Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.”

This quote, attributed to the great G.K. Chesterton, famous English writer, Christian philosopher and apologist, surfaces in my thoughts periodically. And when it does, it encourages me that something powerful, beautiful, and amazing is worth doing even if I cannot do it perfectly—or even close.

Too long ago I had to surrender the idea of perfection in singing, writing, and playing the piano because those things were not my all-consuming passion.

I was 8, 9, 10… competing with all kinds of kids playing piano, all across many different ethnic backgrounds. But it was our Asian peers who, again and again, took all the honors in the Classical categories because they were made to practice 8 hours a day. It took all I had within me to do 4 hours a day for a season. I learned a lot from that kind of discipline, but I never placed in any of the Classical categories.

I still remember being at Boston's Berklee College of Music in '79-'80 with all these Charlie “Bird” Parker and John Coltrane wannabes, alongside the guitar greats and Keith Jarrett types on the keyboard. They would spend hours—seemed like days--in those practice rooms with their slowly-growing cold slices of pizza and all too eager cockroaches waiting patiently for a shot at leftovers.

How could I stay in an almost windowless practice room longer than an hour when life was going on all around me? I could bike to Walden Pond or the Concord River. I could explore Boston Harbor, Faneuil Hall, or eventually drive down to Cape Cod. There was nothing that compelled me to stay and pound the keys to perfection.

So, when we began the ministry, I was already a wife and a mom, with all those responsibilities. I had only recently begun playing the piano again, because I had disowned my abilities for several years, with the exception of writing melodies for the lyrics Mike or I created. I knew I was not good. I was mostly adequate. So, it blew my mind when people compared my playing to Keith Green, because I could hear his technique and knew I couldn’t even get close to how well he played. But, over time, I came to understand my accompaniment suited the songs and stories that came from Michael and me. It was expressive, if limited, and at minimum adequate for what we were trying to do.

Then, of course, there was the name of our ministry—Improbable People—which said it all. We didn’t know what we were doing quite often. And it would get very messy. But God gave us great favor because He had something to say through the songs and stories. And even we couldn’t entirely bungle what God was doing through us—and in us—though it sure seemed we came close sometimes.

If I had gotten up from the piano bench every moment I thought I was making a total mess out of what I was sharing I would have quit long ago. And many times, God took my very meager offering and turned it into something amazing that I could not even imagine.

So, I look to that quote to remind me that, first off, walking with the Lord and serving Him with all that I have IS worth my best effort—even if my effort turns out to be less than perfect. It is not exactly a surprise to the One I serve. However, knowing that to be true does not absolve me of doing the best I am able to do in the various circumstances and seasons of my life.

And so all that I do—whatever I do—I try to do whole-heartedly and as an offering before my God. And certainly, I am not even at 25% most of the time with that. But it is the goal—to remember Him in all that I do—and to honor Him with my offerings in the better moments and especially in harder circumstances.

"But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him."

—1 Corinthians 1:27-29

-Sally Klein O'Connor

1/29/24