When I pull out my camera to photograph flowers, I usually choose the most vibrant, most perfect flowers to fill my lens. Flowers without blemish, who shine in their perfection and beam with beauty. Last night though, another flower called to me. She was at the end of her life, her petals curling in on themselves, her creamy whites tinged with brown. She was quite possibly the most imperfect flower I have ever photographed and she is alomost certainly the most beautiful.
This lonely, imperfect, dying and yet beautiful flower made me pause to think. How often do I struggle to be like the flowers I photograph? I try to shine as perfect, hiding any faults, afraid that if those blemishes show through, my beauty will be lost. Yet there is a quiet, peaceful beauty that can be found in our imperfections.
Our world is not made of perfect flowers and our lives are not filled with perfect people. It is those very blemishes that add color, originality and yes, beauty to our souls. The divine power of knowing you are perfectly imperfect and lovely just the same fills us with hope. Hope for ourselves and our world.
May our beautiful imperfections and diversity give us the hope that we can find peace, joy and beauty in our sometimes dying world.