Wrong Notes and Imperfect Pottery - JennieGScott.com
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Wrong Notes and Imperfect Pottery

The clay sculptures sit next to my bed where I can see them every morning and night. A dinosaur, an eagle, and a fish are among my most treasured possessions.

Painstakingly shaped and painted by my own children, these pieces may never be on display in a museum, but they are displayed where their creators’ mother can see and appreciate them over and over. In a fire, I’d scoop them right up over items worth thousands more.

My children made them for me, and that is what makes them perfect.

But to my children, they aren’t. Sometimes when they see them, they laugh at what they made when their hands were smaller, and they see every flaw in their hands’ creations. They ask me why I keep them out, why I display them like they’re fine art.

So often, in my own creating, I feel like I just mess up everything, too.

In my hands and through my eyes, what I intend to be beautiful is nothing more than broken. What I mean to be a masterpiece turns into a mess.

My meager offerings to the Lord? They disappoint me. They are never enough and never as good as so and so’s. When I reflect on what I do, all I see are the imperfections and flaws. The shortcomings and not-good-enoughs shout loudly for my attention, and the blood, sweat, and tears I spent on the creation are forgotten. All I see is all I’m not. All I notice is where I failed. Again.

I convince myself that all I can do is create imperfect pottery, and the imperfections cause me to recoil. They cause me to swear off creating again, and they make me feel like I can never offer anything of worth.

And I know I’m not alone.

My sister-in-law has a beautiful voice. She leads worship in our church, and people are constantly amazed at the talent she displays. But when the songs are over and she hears herself replayed, all she hears are the notes she didn’t nail. The imperfections that to us are unnoticed are evidence of failure to her ears.

She is like me, and I am like you. All we notice are our own wrong notes; all we see are our imperfect pottery’s flaws.

Through my eyes, yes, I am a failure. My creations, even under the best conditions and with the purest intentions, will never be just right. Regardless of how hard I work and how perfect I desire my creation to be, it will fall short. There will always be an improvement that could be made or a change that would make it better.


My eyes are not seeing all that God’s are. My assessment is not the most accurate tally, and my focus on miniscule details causes me to forget that I created it for Him and not myself.

My perfection is not what He desires. He just wants me to give it my all, do it for Him, and let it glorify Him how it will. His Word reminds us, “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God” (1 Cor. 10:31).

All, for the glory of God. All, even the imperfect. All, even what you wish were better.

And more importantly, for the glory of God. Not for the praise of man, not for self-satisfaction, but for glorifying the One who created you. Your creations are to praise the Creator, and when they are done with only Him in mind, they do.

Our imperfect creations are displayed on his shelves, and they are among His treasures. May we create with pure hearts and glorify with those creations, even if imperfect.

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