Here’s the text for the 30 June 2025 “Pause for Thought” I offered on the Breakfast Show with Sara Cox on BBC Radio 2. Listen here.

I’m embarrassed to confess that I’m a sucker for those twee internet personality quizzes. From  “Harry Potter’s Hogwarts-House-Sorter” to “Which Friends Character Are You?” to “Discover Your Inner Canine” – it’s fun to consider, from a playful angle, how we show up in the world.

Apparently, I am Gryffindor for my determination, Ross for my studiousness, and a crossbreed dog for my adaptability and enigmatic mystery. Sure.

These quizzes – and more serious personality tests – usually offer a list of our strengths: empathy, for example, creativity, focus, intelligence. It’s nothing new, really. The Bible has its own ancient list of virtues: joy, peace, patience, gentleness.

I believe we human beings are miracles. But sometimes I get weary of the relentless positivity through which we see ourselves. Americans are famous for this – “you’re awesome, you’re amazing!” But Brits do it, too: “Darling, you’re perfect.” This endless affirmation… it’s exhausting.

I mean, it’s great to celebrate our strengths, but in my opinion, that’s not the whole truth of us.

I went to a funeral once where someone I knew as loving but very difficult was eulogized as a flawless saint. I whispered to my husband: “At my funeral, please tell the preacher to say: ‘Trey was a lovely guy, and he could be a control freak and jackass sometimes. Can I get an Amen?’” And the people who love me would laugh out-loud and shout: “Amen, preacher!”

Christianity, in addition to its list of virtues, also has a list of deadly sins: arrogance, for example, envy, wrath, greed. This list has sometimes been misused to shame people, but I’ve come to experience it as a way into freedom. It helps me look honestly at myself – to admit: “yeah, I really struggle with arrogance; God I find envy really tricky”. When I name that, with the help of friends, and a God who loves me through and through, I feel an inner acceptance. The joy not of being perfect, but of being human. And I feel an invitation to see others that way, too.

That process – fpr me, in Church and in Alcoholics Anonymous – continues to be a transforming gift.

My friend Kimberly says life would be better, families would be healthier, global politics would be more peaceful, if we could all admit, in detail, what we actually struggle with. To tell the fuller truth about ourselves – the beautiful parts, and the busted ones, too — in search of a life together that’s not perfect but vulnerably free and lovingly real.