A while back a friend noticed that our wedding Ketubah hanging in our dining room had a flaw.
A Ketubah is a traditional Jewish wedding document and I had composed a creative, original version in Hebrew for my wife years ago for our wedding.
Despite having seen and read it countless times, my Israeli friend pointed out a single missing letter that I had never noticed before. While it in no way invalidated the meaning or importance of the Ketubah, I was crest-fallen nonetheless for having failed to spot the scribal flaw years ago.
But I recalled that medieval Islamic rug and tapestry weavers would intentionally insert a flaw into their seemingly perfect complex geometric patterns as a conscious act of humility. It was a gesture expressing humanity's limitations in the fabric of God's true, ultimate perfection.
My marriage is not perfect and neither is my wife -- and my wife would be the first to tell you that I am far from an ideal husband or father. But it is our flaws and minor imperfections that make our marriage endearing and precious.