When You Are Still Trying to Be Good Enough

Our family and friends often gathered at a restaurant after the evening Mass in Idaho. One evening at one of these gatherings, a young boy of seventeen who was well known to the family presented Cynthia and me with a document. It made the two of us guardians of this young man. It was a shock to my system, but we decided to roll with it. It would take a while to explain everything, but I’m just going to say that his mom was hoping that this would help him. He was living on the streets and things were going downhill. He said he was interested in making changes, so we gave it a shot. We were empty nesters, and so adding a little chaos was easy for us to handle.

He spent a year with us and actually finished high school. He went on his way in the summer after his senior year. In that brief time with this kid, the two of us formed a healthy bond, and he said that I had become like a father to him. His actual father situation was tragically sad, but he has said that he thinks of me as a father figure. In reflecting on that time with this kid from fifteen years ago, it’s a little weird that we’re still connected as much as we are. Of course, I’m connected with the children that I raised, my daughter and son, and I feel tremendously gifted for those connections. But even a brief connection with a young man where I played a father-like role, even that connection can become powerful. It’s kind of shocking.

I believe that God gives us both the role of parent and child to teach us some important lessons about our relationship with God, especially God the Father. I’m going to lean in that direction a little bit, but we learn a lot from our relationship with our mothers too.

In Matthew chapter 10, in the story of the sparrows and the hairs of your head, Jesus says that the Father pays attention to all sorts of small things — sparrows, the counting of hair on our heads. He says that you are worth more than many sparrows. Any father that has a healthy connection with their kid understands this. The son or daughter has tremendous value to the father. And that value does not change based on what the child accomplishes. The father values the relationship, who the person is, not the things they can do, not the things they have, not their position in society. It’s about relating to the individual.

This idea of being worth many sparrows speaks to the idea of your value, your worth. What is your value? Where does your value come from? Imagine this great cosmic scale where your value is weighed. What would we put on the scale to measure our value? Well, I say the first thing to consider is this huge boulder that represents the fact that God created you in his image. God loves you. The God that created this whole universe, that God loves you, specifically you. Another one: Jesus died for you. Through baptism, you are an adopted child of the Father, of God the Father. The Holy Spirit dwells in you and you are his temple. These huge boulders on the scale, measuring your value. What in the world could you possibly do to add or subtract from all of that on the scale? Well, my boss thinks I do great work. Okay, maybe we can add a little fuzz on the scale. It’s not going to matter compared to what God has already done for you. And this is why several entries in the Catechism of the Catholic Church teach about how humans — all humans — have value that flows from what God has done, not what man has done.

I bring this up because a misunderstanding of our value can mess up relationships. To help explain a little bit what I mean, I’d like you to try and remember those times, in your childhood, when you were wanting to be good enough for your parents. Wanting to make the grades that would make you good enough. Or wanting to win the awards that will finally let you know that you’re good enough. Now, if that’s not you, if you don’t have a memory of that type of thing, then perhaps you are very lucky. Because this problem of needing to be good enough, and concluding that you’re not, happens to many people.

And that’s unfortunate, because it’s a mistake that messes up our relationships. It’s a mistake to believe that we have to perform in order to be good enough in relationships with our parents or caregivers. And that mistake can carry over into other important relationships. When the relationship is healthy, the father enjoys their relationship with their children because of who they are, not because of their accomplishments.

The truth is that our relationships are less about our skills, our abilities, what we own, our standing in the eyes of others. The truth is that our relationships are less about those things and more about seeing the other person as they are. Being curious to really see them, to learn about them, to discover what’s good for them.

When we’re trying to pursue being good enough, trying to pursue ever increasing value, then the focus is wrong. We’re no longer relating to a human. We’re relating to facts or things and not people. People have emotions, an intellect, a soul, a body. They have memories, experiences, values, beliefs, priorities, hurts, fears, dreams, hopes, goals. It’s all unique to the person because they’ve been created by God, and that’s pretty cool.

For each of us, our most important relationship is God. When you place your relationship with God at the top of all your relationship priorities, you will benefit greatly. This is true for many reasons, but a simple one to understand is that God is the only being that is pure goodness. God knows what’s good for you. He wills what’s good for you, all the time, every time. That’s not true for any other being. Your relationship with God has the most potential to be the best one possible.

We foster our relationship with God through prayer, through the sacraments, through reading sacred scripture, through participation in the Mass, through living a life of charity, through observance of God’s commands, and so on. There are many, many ways to relate to God. It’s not possible to exhaust all the ways of relating to God.

It’s about this time when some people will say, “Hold up there, Deacon Robert. Of course we’re supposed to strive to be good enough. In fact, we’re supposed to strive to be perfect. Jesus says to be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect.” That’s what Jesus says after his sermon on the mount, which is actually all about relationship. Matthew chapter 5. Read through that and you’ll see it’s not talking about accomplishments. It’s talking about relationships.

The Catholic Church understands it’s vital to pursue a healthy relationship with God. It’s the highest priority. Good things flow from your choice to do this. The graces necessary to grow in virtue and holiness flow from this life with God. God wants us to make this choice, to put him at the top of our priorities.

Jesus says that not even a sparrow falls without the Father’s notice. He says that the hairs on your head are counted. And then he tells us, “You are worth more than many sparrows.” The point is that God knows you. As a father, I understand a little bit of that. I understand why, fifteen years later, I still care about a young man who lived with us for only a short time. I understand why parents never stop caring about their kids.

But God’s love is infinitely greater than mine. So if you’ve been carrying around the idea that you have to earn your worth, prove your worth, or accomplish enough to become worthy of love, consider what Jesus is saying in this Gospel. Your worth did not begin with your accomplishments, and it does not depend on your accomplishments. Your worth comes from the God who created you, redeemed you, and calls you his child.

And if God loves you that much, then perhaps the most important thing you can do is to make him your priority.

If you are still trying to become worth the care, start with the scale in this homily. Write what you are putting on it so that someone will finally keep you. The grades. The award. My boss thinks I do great work. He called that last one fuzz. The boulders were already on the scale before any of that: God created you, loves you, Jesus died for you, baptism made you a child of the Father, the Spirit dwells in you. Those do not get heavier because you finished the year. They do not get lighter because you did not.

Then use the year he actually lived with us. He finished high school. That is not why I still care fifteen years later. The document made us guardians. The bond was that he was the person in the house. Write one person you are performing for, and write what they would still have if you stopped producing the proof. If the list is only accomplishments, that is the mistake. You are relating to the grade, not to the person.

“Be perfect,” in Matthew chapter 5, is the sermon on the mount. He said it is about relationship, not the award. One hour this week, put God or the actual person ahead of the proof. Pray, or sit with them, and do not collect it as evidence that you have become good enough. The sparrows were already counted. The hair was already counted. The year did not earn the care.

This is a pastoral reflection, not clinical care and not a substitute for it. If you or someone you love is in immediate danger, call 988 or local emergency services.

Drawn from a homily first preached in 2026.