Perfectionism

ha.... in my fast typing i wrote pwrfwctionism. and had to correct it because blogger won't let you change titles later on. i'm a perfectionist at heart.
this week i have been challenged in a knitting project. i'm working swiftly under a self-induced deadline as i'm seeing the recipient this weekend, and the minor snafus i've faced have had me calling my spiritual and knitting mentor, who, i might add, is an even more intense "type a" than i am. tonight, after sewing up the sides and one of the sleeves, i noticed a glaring error. and could not believe i hadn't noticed it before while actually knitting that portion of the sweater. this may make no sense to you if you don't knit, but i was working in a two-row striping pattern of two colors. tiny little stripes. the error? 4 rows of blue staring darkly at me. on the sleeve. very obviously in its sea of two-row cousins. egads. to rip back or ignore it in the name of "character"? i called meg to ask another question, and then i wearily queried: "you'd change it, wouldn't you?" she agreed, most likely, but also understood that to unsew and rip back would mean a lot more time and effort, and there would be no way to finish before this weekend.
then, quietly, "you know, misty, the Amish women make mistakes in their quilting on purpose. so that by choosing to be imperfect they are never competing with God who is alone perfect."
i've been thinking much on the ideas of my limitations, my imperfections, my weaknesses. but what if the Creator made me with all those limits, imperfections, and weak spots on purpose? He would be made known, both to me and in those who see my testimony living.
He pours his glory each time i pour heavy tears, stopped by my own flesh-toned weakness. i am perfectly made. purposefully made. storied with imperfections so that i may not boast in the perfect stitches of my abilities, the beautiful applique of my desires, the luxurious fabric choices of my own pride... all filthy rags and wonky seams and one-stripe-too-manys. the tapestry speaks for Him, and He speaks story redemptive.
even though my friend won't know the implications, i will leave that extra stripe, small hallmark of character. it was hand-knit by one who was Hand-knit after all.