The Beauty of Imperfection

 

After one of the heavy rains from a recent thunderstorm, I checked out the creek that flows through the neighborhood. Usually after such a storm, I find that the rain has washed all kinds of trash into the creek, along with assorted balls and random toys. The water level had quickly subsided, but as it did it left this interesting sign behind.

I’m sure that this trail left in the current is probably an indication of some pollutant washed into the creek. Even so, it was in its own way, beautiful. It was as if someone had tried to paint a group of three parallel lines on the surface of the water, only to discover that the water was still flowing. It reminded me of my childhood and the way the teachers would draw lines on the chalkboard in order to teach us to form the letters correctly on our own “imaginary line” paper. The tool they used held multiple pieces of chalk and produced perfectly parallel lines.

Well, the surface of the creek does not lend itself to perfect. It flows and ripples and shifts. Yet, somehow, these lines flowed and rippled and shifted together and, though not straight, were still parallel. Their journey continued together, disappearing under the bridge. In the same way, our lives do not lend themselves to perfect. Our lives are always flowing and rippling and shifting as the years go by. And yet, like the mysterious lines on the water, the imperfection holds its own beauty.

The apostle Paul writes, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” In these imperfect bodies, in these imperfect lives, we carry the treasure of life in God’s grace as we go. That is what makes life beautiful.

Peace.