The God we serve does not seek out the perfect, but instead uses

The words of Rick Perry resound with a truth as old as scripture: “The God we serve does not seek out the perfect, but instead uses our imperfections and our shortcomings for His greater good. I am humbled by my own limitations. But where I am weak, He is strong.” Here lies a mystery that confounds the proud and comforts the broken—that the Almighty does not demand flawlessness from His children, but rather gathers up their fragments and turns them into vessels of light. The strong may boast of their own power, but the wise know that true power is revealed when the weak surrender their weakness to the hand of God.

In the ancient texts, it is told that the Creator chose shepherds, stutterers, fishermen, and outcasts to bear His message. He lifted Moses, slow of tongue, to confront kings. He raised David, the youngest and least regarded son, to slay giants and rule a kingdom. He chose Peter, who faltered and denied, to be the rock of His church. In each tale, it is not human perfection that shines, but divine strength made manifest in human frailty. Perry’s words echo this eternal pattern: our shortcomings are not obstacles, but instruments.

Consider the story of Abraham Lincoln, who bore deep melancholy throughout his life, who failed in business and politics before rising to the presidency. His sorrows carved out a heart of compassion, enabling him to speak words that healed a divided nation. His “weakness” became the wellspring of empathy, his defeats the furnace that forged resilience. In his imperfections, God’s design found its stage. Lincoln, like the prophets of old, proved that weakness surrendered to a higher purpose becomes strength beyond measure.

To be humbled by one’s own limitations is the beginning of wisdom. The proud man who believes himself flawless builds his house upon sand, and when storms come, it crumbles. But the one who bows before his inadequacy and calls upon the Eternal builds upon rock. For where man admits his frailty, God may dwell in fullness. This humility is not despair—it is the key that opens the door for divine strength to flood the human spirit.

Let us remember also the Apostle Paul, who spoke of a “thorn in the flesh,” a burden he begged God to remove. Yet the answer came: “My grace is sufficient for thee, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Here is the heart of Perry’s words: where we are weak, He is strong. The thorn did not vanish, but it became a channel through which God’s power was revealed. So too in our own lives, the very places we wish to hide or despise may become the altars upon which God displays His glory.

The lesson is clear: do not despise your imperfections. Do not believe that failure, struggle, or limitation disqualifies you from greatness. Instead, see them as the soil in which divine strength takes root. You need not be flawless to serve, to love, or to create. Indeed, it is your cracks that let the light shine through. To surrender your weakness is to invite God’s greatness.

What, then, should one do? First, confess your shortcomings honestly, without shame. Second, do not shrink from tasks because of fear of inadequacy; step forward, trusting that strength beyond your own will arise in the moment of need. Third, turn your wounds into wells of compassion—use your struggles to lift others who stumble. Finally, when you are tempted to despair, recall this truth: perfection is not required of you. Faith is. Surrender is. Courage is.

Take this teaching into your life, children of tomorrow: The Almighty does not delight in flawless vessels, but in broken jars filled with living water. Where you are weak, He is strong. Where you falter, He sustains. Where you yield, He conquers. Walk then with bold humility, knowing your imperfection is not your prison, but the very place where God’s strength shall be revealed.