Perfectly Imperfect
By Amanda Hudson
The final story from the priest who led a recent retreat was a good one.
 
A man had two pots that he carried each day on a pole to fetch the day’s water. One pot was just perfect: beautiful, smooth, and tightly sealed. The other pot had a crack.
 
The intact pot was proud of its ability to transport its entire amount of water for the man and his family to use. The cracked vessel was embarrassed because every day when they arrived back at the man’s house it was only half full.
 
Finally, one day after several years of the same situation, the flawed container deeply apologized to its master for being unable to hold all the water filling it from the well to the man’s house.
 
“Little pot,” the man said. “Have you never noticed the flowers that grow along the path? They grow only on your side of the trail. I am able to pick those flowers and use them to grace our table and make it beautiful.
 
“I knew you were cracked when I chose you,” the man continued, “and I planted those flower seeds deliberately along the trail to receive the water from you, to grow and make the journey and my house beautiful.”
 
Probably a lot of us identify more readily with the pot that had a crack rather than with the perfect one. We may at times feel strong and capable, beautiful and polished, ready for anything and excelling at everything. But such delights don’t hold up over time. Sooner or later, cracks appear — physical ones perhaps, or mental or spiritual imperfections. We may succeed in covering them up, but even if only we know they are there, they are there.
 
The above story reminds me of something I heard years ago, that some cultures deliberately weave a flaw into rugs or blankets or tapestries to make room for God to be part of their work.
 
All this goes against our usual view of things, especially for the perfectionists among us. Depending on the task, taking great care in what we do can be important. But striving to be perfect in everything, even when “good” would be good enough can focus us away from other people and their needs or put us out of touch with God Himself. 
 
For example, I warn myself not to do what one older relative of mine tended toward doing many years ago — not joining her friends for breakfast when asked because she had work to do at home. Her house was always clean and things were in their place and meals were tasty. But she did miss out on socializing and building up her friendships.
 
It might be good for all of us to ponder the possibility that God can indeed work through our “cracks” if we let Him. It’s even more mind-boggling to consider that He not only knows about the flaws we seem to have been born with, but He may have planned them. God is a step or many steps ahead of us in foreseeing what’s up ahead. And He can plan accordingly.
 
It is certain that not many of us are multi-talented mentally, socially and physically. Spiritual heavyweights like the brilliant St. Thomas Aquinas are not found in every parish. God’s gifts given to individuals vary just like one parable’s master who gave 10 talents to one servant, five to another and one to yet another.
 
Speaking of Aquinas, in 1273 he received a revelation that had him stating, “The end of my labors has come. All that I have written appears to be as so much straw after the things that have been revealed to me.” He later added, “I can write no more. I have seen things that make my writings like straw.”
So much for being a spiritual powerhouse!
 
There’s nothing wrong with being brilliant, gorgeous, and exceptional at this or that ... but God always outshines all of His creation. We should not worry that we must be in competition with anyone. God has a plan for everyone, cracks and clumsines and sputters and all.
 
And sometimes, our so-called flaws can be used by Him to make the world beautiful in ways we cannot see — or even imagine.