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.

Love & Hope — Episode 1:
Ellie Kemper ‘witch-hunt’ shows why it’s hard to fight real racism
Why exactly is it such a big deal to be invited to the White House?
You never know when someone needs a hug — to know you care
As nightmares plague my friends, I’m grateful mine have subsided
NOTEBOOK: Why do so many libertarians need One True Way?
Do political labels make things clear or just confuse everyone?
Idiots in Congress haven’t heard of ‘law of unintended consequences’