Here is a poem written by my friend, Linda Foy. Linda is a Quaker and lives in Sackville, New Brunswick.
As you read receive words that open your heart.
It belonged
All the wooden rails in the new fence
were straight, save one.
That one had the most impressive and peculiar sloop.
And yet the carpenter
had affixed it along with the rest,
and it belonged.
Take heed! Honour the allure of the flaw.
Like my friend who made a quilt
for my soon-to-be born child;
all primary colours and little geometric boats.
One turned opposite to the rest.
“It’s customary” said my friend, “this fault,
so as not to anger God with an attempt at perfection.”
Oh child, enjoy the humour of the flaw.
(My God would not demand imperfection.
My God is in the flaw.)
I saw a blind boy at the beach.
He did not see me.
A beautiful boy, smiling.
A parent on either side to guide him
so that he could feel the give and take
of the sand beneath his bare feet.
He broke open my heart.
But if he’d known this, he might have said,
“Thanks for your love. And so sorry that your feet cannot
commune with the sand like mine.
So sorry that your sight gets in the way.”
My friends, rejoice in the grace of the flaw.
Rejoice!
Linda Foy
September 2015
The beauty of decaying tree stumps is a forest treasure in which I delight. My artist son has a great fascination for rusting metal. The life story enfolded in the wrinkles of an aging face has an allure yet to come to the smooth faces of the young. God is indeed in the flaw.
I love the image of the decaying tree stumps. I’ve heard them called “nursing logs” – bringing new life to seedlings. Beautiful.
Thank you so much Linda….I love the idea of an intentional flaw….helps me to accept more of all the unintentional ones.
Thoughtful, insightful, and such a creative reflection. Our eyes so often notice things “out of place” first, and as Carol says, blinding us to the “real”. Beauty is indeed in the flaw, and invites us to be awake.
This is lovely and a reminder to look for wisdom in the flaws and in the painful times. We are blind in our devotion to perfection.