It Is Good: Finding God in Our Flaws

There’s something disarmingly human about watching other people’s stories unfold, especially when they’re unapologetically messy.

I just came home from seeing Jaja’s African Hair Braiding, and let me tell you, that play was alive. Women from across Africa, all gathered in one Harlem hair salon, their hands weaving intricate braids while their hearts quietly unraveled. Each had her own story: a husband cheating, a mother trying to remarry, a friend with a sharp tongue, a daughter longing for home. So many imperfect women, each holding a piece of truth.

And as I watched, I couldn’t help thinking: maybe that’s what makes life beautiful, the imperfection of it all.

The Divine Pattern of Imperfection

Every woman in that salon was flawed, loud, tender, contradictory, human.

And somehow, that human mess mirrored the divine pattern I see in Scripture: God works through imperfect people.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NIV)

Paul called his imperfection “a thorn in the flesh.” I call mine “the ongoing curriculum of grace.”

We all have those thorny places, the things that humble us enough to need God daily.

As I listened to those fictional women, it struck me how much we resemble them, how our contradictions, fears, and small acts of resilience become the very threads God weaves into something meaningful.

“Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything — that’s how the light gets in.” — Leonard Cohen

Our cracks are not disqualifiers; they’re entry points for grace.

When Imperfection Meets Imperfection

There’s a kind of spiritual electricity that happens when flawed people meet.

I thought of how the play’s women talked, teased, argued, and forgave, the chaos wasn’t random; it was sacred friction that created movement.

Proverbs 27:17 puts it this way: “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.”

When imperfect meets imperfect, sparks fly, and those sparks become light. That’s how we grow. That’s how we learn to love. It’s the synapse of the soul, a jolt that activates something divine in both directions.

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” — Rumi

I used to think peace meant silence and stillness. Now I think it’s being able to stay tender in the noise, to find beauty in the interruption.

God Looked and Said, ‘It Is Good’

When God created the world, He looked at the mess of elements, water, dust, breath, chaos, and still declared, “It is good.” (Genesis 1:31)

Maybe He wasn’t commenting on perfection. Maybe He was affirming wholeness, the beautiful, broken dance between shadow and light, mistake and mercy.

We’re still part of that same divine ecosystem, unfinished yet already called “good.”

“I am not what I ought to be, I am not what I hope to be, but still, I am not what I once was. And by the grace of God, I am what I am.” — John Newton

That’s the quiet miracle: we’re loved in progress, not in completion.

Soul Insights

1. Imperfection is divine permission.

Our flaws don’t disqualify us; they remind us of our dependence. They make space for humility, for compassion toward ourselves and others. Every rough edge becomes a reminder that we are still being shaped, not discarded, just unfinished clay in the Potter’s hands. God doesn’t rush art; He refines it.

2. Grace grows best in friction.

The moments that irritate us the most, the hard conversations, the misunderstandings, the disappointments, are often the soil where grace takes root. Without friction, we stay dull. With it, we become sharp and radiant. Every difficult interaction is a mirror inviting us to grow in love.

3. Healing begins when we stop pretending.

We can’t heal from what we hide. The women in Jaja’s Braiding were most powerful when they were honest, when the façade dropped, and truth stepped forward. Our healing begins the same way: by showing up real, unfiltered, and raw before God. Honesty is holiness in its most human form.

4. Love is the glue that binds contradictions.

Love doesn’t erase our flaws; it integrates them. It reminds us that broken doesn’t mean bad; it means belonging. When we choose love, we stop labeling things as good or evil and start seeing purpose in both. That’s how heaven touches earth, through the lens of love.

5. Growth is found in the middle of the mess.

There is no transformation without tension. What feels like chaos is often divine choreography. The clutter of life, the heartbreaks, delays, misunderstandings, is where God arranges His best work. The sooner we surrender to that process, the freer we become.

Final Thoughts

We often chase perfection like it’s proof of worth. But maybe the real evidence of faith is staying soft in a jagged world, choosing to love, forgive, and keep showing up even when life tangles our threads.

I think of the women in Jaja’s salon, laughing, fighting, forgiving. They didn’t need to be perfect to be beautiful. They just needed to keep braiding, each strand crossing another, turning flaws into art.

Maybe that’s what God does with us. He keeps braiding our lives, weaving every imperfection, every missed step, every lesson, into something glorious. And when He looks at it, He still says, It is good.

Your Turn

Tonight, look at your own reflection with grace. Instead of asking, What needs to be fixed?, try asking, What is already good?

Write down one “imperfection” that has actually helped you grow. Then thank God for it, for the friction, the failure, the beauty hiding in the mess.

Because you, my friend, are already part of His good creation, perfectly imperfect, and wholly loved.

Soul Path Insights