Holy one, this prayer has something to do with paradox. Please help me remember the brilliant idea you gave me while I was up to my elbows in dishwater and couldn’t write it down. It had something to do with Noah’s 3 sons, and a dishonest manager being commended for his shrewdness.
It had something to do with the way the world turns upside down when a queen dies, while others pass from this life to the next with barely a 5-line obituary. It had something to do with one person’s grief triggering another’s deep pain, and how we never really know which end of the equation is ours, the grieving or the aggrieved.
It had something to do with holding two truths – or maybe more – in tension, not balance. Because they need to push and pull on each other in order to be truth at all. It had something to do with recognizing the pain we cause when we assume we are the victims, while our privilege shields us from seeing ourselves as perpetrators.
It had something to do with the way righteousness encompasses both judgment and mercy, a seed has to die for a plant to take root, something can only be lost if it belonged to someone in the first place. Death is necessary for resurrection to happen.
It had something to do with the assurance your love endures to all generations without fail, and in the end, evil will not be able to withstand such love.
Whatever that brilliant prayer about paradox was, Lord, you already know it. Help me to see this week that Truth might be bigger than I can grasp, but just because I can’t grasp it doesn’t mean it isn’t true. So show me the little truths holding each other together in opposition, and give me grace to walk humbly with you in your enduring love. Amen.