Imperfect flowers. For whatever reason, this seems to be a trend over the past few days.

I spotted the above FrankenConeflowers during my run this morning.

Below is a photo I took as I watched in fascination as a man painstakingly worked his way through dozens of bundles of flowers trying to find the perfect arrangement.

This teeny, tiny purple coneflower was at least 18 inches shorter than its landscaping counterparts.

And our sweet little gardenia is less than symmetrical.

But I have to say, none of these imperfections matter.

FrankenConeflowers gave me some much-needed comic relief during a hot, humid, and awful training run this morning. Not to mention that they are still vibrant and stand proudly. So much so that they apparently decided to bloom twice.

The overwhelmed flower shopper finally settled on what he viewed as a flawless bouquet, but that was hardly the point. If the flowers’ recipient would’ve witnessed the effort and intention this man and his heart put forth, a wilted rose or daisy would still have been perfection.

The vertically challenged coneflower still put forth its life-sustaining offering to the bee.

Our cattywampus gardenia continues to greet me with that sweet scent every time I approach our front door.

This is what I love so much about this life. Each day affords us the opportunity to evolve and improve. If we don’t like something about ourselves, we are empowered to change it. Most of us get to hit the reset button when we fall short. We are blessed with countless opportunities to do better.

But you know what? When it all boils down to it, we don’t have to be perfect to be useful, admirable, lovable, or even invaluable.

Our journeys are perfectly flawed. How beautiful is that.