God doesn't make garbage

that's what he said this morning. i had just thanked him for making me a cup of tea, and he thanked me for "being a great nanny", so i mentioned how maybe this past week wasn't so great ((because of the things i forgot, my own crap coming up and interfering with work, and the tension due to the missed communication, and lack thereof)). we joked about perfectionism, and my imperfection & difficulty with it, then in all seriousness C said, "God doesn't make garbage. did you know that?" i said, "so i've been told." i've heard that a million times, in different ways, but why in the world do i believe it more coming from him? let's just say that this guy is...very colorful. ...in his language, in his actions and humor, in his mannerisms & behavior, in his styles of relating to people ((just like his son e-e, he knows no strangers)), and in his own imperfections as well. God doesn't make garbage.