“The human story does not always unfold like a mathematical calculation on the principle that two and two make four.  Sometimes in life they make five or minus three; and sometimes the blackboard topples down in the middle of the sum and leaves the class in disorder and the pedagogue with a black eye.” (Winston Churchill)

The new year has begun. My children have returned to school. My daughter spent a couple of hours on her math last night, trying to get things to work out perfectly for her equations. She was frustrated. I could relate.

I’d been evaluating some things in my life that were falling short of my vision of perfection. And while I believe in continual evaluation and constantly seeking to improve myself and my life, my thoughts were an exercise in frustration. Which led to worry. Which led to lots of other feelings. Things were not adding up the way I’d planned.

Then I came across a story by Gordon Green, originally published in The Reader’s Digest in the 1950s, about a farming family. Their finances were tight but they sacrificed to pay for an electrical line up their lane the year electricity came to their town. They acquired brilliant light bulbs that dangled from each ceiling; there were no more lamps to fill with oil, no wicks to trim, no more sooty chimneys to wash. Their lamps went quietly off to the attic. Unfortunately, electricity was the last good thing to happen to their family that year as the family experienced challenging weather, crop failure, and other setbacks. Their mother suggested the family forget Thanksgiving that year. Their father showed up with a jackrabbit and asked his wife to cook it. The children refused to eat it; the mother cried.

The father got an oil lamp from the attic, put it on the table, lit it, and turned out the electric lights. When there was only lamp light again, the family could hardly believe their home life had constantly been that dark before! They wondered how they had ever seen anything without the bright light made possible by electricity. They were grateful for what they had.

Like the farm family, I’ve lived through MUCH darker times (when there weren’t just a few frustrations here or there, or a few challenges to overcome, but NOTHING added up the way I’d planned or expected it to.) Seeing how far I’ve come gave me a better perspective on my present and reminded me how grateful I am for my life—unexpected, slightly imperfect as parts of it may be. I know there’s a purpose to imperfection; to challenge; to adversity. You see, when weaving a blanket, an Indian woman leaves a flaw in the weaving of that blanket to let the soul out. (Martha Graham) The flaws are there for our own good, for our growth and development. To expand our soul. To make us better.

Note to self: In life, things won’t always add up perfectly. Things don’t always turn out the way you expect. (I know this! WHY do I so quickly forget? Why do I have to constantly relearn that?) And if they don’t, it’s ok. Don’t worry. Don’t stress. Prepare to be enlarged through the experience of overcoming whatever you feel doesn’t quite add up to perfection. It’s still good.

“A good garden may have some weeds.”  (Thomas Fuller, Gnomologia, 1732)

But it’s still good.