Imperfect Pounds

Today I made a pound cake, which is my dad's very favorite kind of cake. My mom taught me how to make a pound cake from scratch when I was 9 years-old. At first, upon examination, I sighed because I thought the cake had turned out perfectly. But, then I was elated to discover that it wasn't perfect after all. In my mind's eye, I can see you scratching your head and looking confused, as that seems backwards. Why would I want the pound cake to be imperfect and flawed? Okay. Here is the scoop:

My dad's favorite pound cake is one that has fallen slightly. It has the dense, moist spots that we have always called "sad spots". I am not sure why he likes it that way. He just does. Some things you just don't question as there probably is not an answer. He can enjoy a perfect cake, but prefers the ones that are not perfect. It makes me feel good to please my dad, and the best part is that everything does not have to be perfect. That takes off a lot of pressure.

I am so glad that I have an earthly father, as well as a Heavenly Father who don't expect me to be perfect. I don't have to be a certain size (speaking of pounds :) or try to impress them with my accomplishments. Their love for me is not based on performance. Even when I fall, they love me right where I am, "sad spots" and all. For that, I will be eternally grateful.