Imperfect

Imperfect? Cast aside. Returned. Disposed of.

We look for something with all the parts and pieces intact. No scratches. Strong. Durable. Reliable. 

“As it should be.” 

This expectation? Just another subtle hint at the permanence we were made for. 

But meanwhile, things fall apart. Disappoint. 

Flaws come to light.

Language 

When we lived in Karachi, we met with our language teacher several times a week. 

In a small, airless room. Upstairs. One window open to outside noise and dust.

This teacher’s people came from the place where Urdu was spoken most purely. And he held us to that high standard. His grasp of grammar and the like kept us on our toes.

He spent around 60 hours a week with language students like us. And occasionally nodded off mid-question or during our attempts at repeating phrases with correct pronunciations. 

No one could blame him, given the long work week and close environment.

Carpets

But aside from his day job, our teacher had a side gig. Designer of carpets. And occasionally we’d arrive to find several rolled up and standing against the wall. 

Brought for us to peruse and consider.

One of my favorite carpets ever is one of his. 

This particular one drew my eye immediately. I loved the colors. Its softness and shine. The symmetry.

We purchased it and rolled it out on the tile floor of our home. 

Imperfect

I glanced at the colors and design as I walked by. One day, something caught my attention. I looked more closely. 

One part of the carpet didn’t match the pattern. Like someone had measured incorrectly in that spot. Imperfect!

It bothered me. We’d paid good money, after all. So, the next time I saw our teacher, I told him my concern about the defect—in an otherwise beautiful carpet.

He laughed.

Every carpet will have a flaw of some sort, he said.

“Because only God is perfect.”

Perfect hope

I think about this when all doesn’t go according to my plans. Pieces don’t fit. Things fall apart. 

I walk by the handmade carpet. A familiar reminder, now resting on wooden floors.

Only God is perfect. 

And He uses frail, flawed earthen vessels to reveal His glory.

Even in our imperfection, we hold forth beauty. His perfect hope.

And amid impermanence all around us, we look forward to the Day. When all will be complete. No longer imperfect. In eternity with Him.

What about you?

What has reminded you lately of the permanence you were created for?

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