I watched one day as a man planted trees on an empty lot. With great precision, he lined the trees in perfect rows. If his pattern fell off, he would re-fill and re-dig to get it just right.
Later, I walked through a park where it seemed the trees had been there from the beginning of time. The path wound with bends and turns, veering here and there, never once forming a straight line.
Instead, it followed the pattern of the trees.
So often we expect our lives to fall in perfect line. Like the man planting trees, we define perfection by precision—a strict, military regimen without hindrance or obstacle. But when I observe creation, I wonder if perfection has an altogether different definition.
Consider the trees. There is beauty and order in each, and yet…in a natural setting they are not lined in perfect rows. Their branches are bent and twisted, growing every which way, yet still forming something…beautiful. It’s the same with rivers and mountains, flowers and hills. Even the shoreline of an ocean changes daily with the tide.
Our lives weren’t meant to be formed on an assembly line. There will be bends and turns, times when everything seems opposite of order. Yet from a higher perspective, our Creator observes and declares, “It is good.” He is the ultimate artist, and his definition of perfect trumps our own, every time.