Western culture loves perfection. Anything that’s imperfect is rejected or at least offered at a steep discount. When someone asks about a newborn baby, you might hear the cliche, “He has all his fingers and toes.”
In our culture of mass production, we judge quality by how perfectly the widgets pressed out of industrial machinery match each other. It doesn’t matter how boring or soulless or poorly designed a thing is. It’s a quality item if it matches its specifications.
I grew up steeped in that culture of perfection, but the more of life that I experience, the more I’ve found beauty in a kind of imperfection that comes only from brokenness.

Nine years ago, he asked her, ‘Will you take a chance on me?’
My own question now faced me: ‘Would a healthy person do that?’
Seasons reveal a living nature that defies our efforts at control
Who’s afraid of a federal shutdown? Many of us hope for the real thing
What would I do with my time if the money made no difference?
Will better marketing make you love state-controlled medical industry?
Telling others how to escape is easier than setting myself free
Will a mechanical body allow you to live forever in a few decades?