Perfectly Imperfect

My dad teaches an early-morning scripture study class to a group of high-schoolers in my hometown. When we visited a couple of weekends ago, he mentioned that he needed a completed piece of needlework for an object lesson that he was going to use in one of his lessons, where he could show these teenagers the front AND the back.

He didn't explain the symbolism, but there was no need. Everyone judges the front of the stitchery, noting the beauty, complexity, deciding if they like it or not, often commenting, "I could never do something like that." Maybe even feeling jealous that another person has the talents & skills necessary to complete such a work of art.

Rarely is the back side given a second thought.

The back is usually a mess. There are knots everywhere, intentionally placed so the stitches hold fast. In some places, there are large, clumpy, accidental knots of thread, bunched together in unattractive 'oops'es. Where the front may have delicate French knots or ordered stitches, the back is riddled with seemingly random lines stretching from here to somewhere inexplicable. And the stitches behind the lettering only vaguely resemble the inspiring words on the front.

The front would not be near as presentable if the back was not so imperfect.

We're all like that, though. Every single one of us has knots, 'oops'es and scars that we hide from others. They're past experiences, lessons learned, lessons still being learned, struggles that mold us and form us and make us into better versions of us. The problem comes when we see the back of our own tapestry in all its funkiness and compare it to the beautiful, finished front of everyone else's.

I had an oddball thought as I was driving down the freeway this afternoon. What if we all wore t-shirts that showed our struggles?
--Doesn't feel loved.
--Scared of job loss.
--Molested as a teenager.
--Not good enough.
--Afraid of doctor's test results.
--Marriage on the rocks.

What if we decided that our knots, scars and missed stitches are okay? What would happen if I wore a shirt that said, "Worried about money; Concerned that I'm screwing up my kids instead of teaching them right; Keep forgetting to put my husband first in my life."? Okay, it'd have to be a dress, but you get the point.

Would we think less of each other? Would the world be a better place because everyone just gets it out there & doesn't have to struggle alone? Would it be way more pessimistic and we'd all just concentrate on our woes instead of being grateful for our blessings? (There would be some benefits, because it would be easier to protect ourselves from criminals and the like.) But how would it all work out? Would we run to others to alleviate their pains and uplift them? Would be reach out to strangers to help bouy them up and lift their droopy souls?

Would we forget our own woes as we love & serve & help others?

Of course it's a fantastical idea, unrealistic in many ways. I just wish that there wasn't such a negative social stigma to seeing a therapist or being on an antidepressant or...being imperfect! I don't know a single person on the earth today who's perfect.

There's only been one, and it's good to remember sometimes that He loves me, knots and all.