Great necessities call out great virtues.
~ Abigail Adams
For many years I had a large Christmas cookie tin full of crayons in various stages of life: some long, barely used; others broken or near-nubs. They've long ago vanished, but today I remember them. As much as I prefer a fresh, full box of them, many a coloring foray has been passed pawing through that tin-bound assortment for something suitable.
I still prefer the perfect ones.
On so many levels that is a truth that confronts me often; sometimes daily. Oh how I love the perfects of life. Oh how few of those perfects exist. Anywhere.
Over time I have had to settle for the imperfects; for the broken crayons in my life or the lives of others. Typically I assess them as failures at the onset. But my assessments evolve and eventually I can look at such broken things as anything BUT that.
Make me to hear joy and gladness.
Let the bones you have broken rejoice.
For you do not delight in sacrifice,
otherwise I would give it;
You are not pleased with burn offering.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
A broken and contrite heart, O God
You will not despise.
The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.