I don’t deny ugliness and injustice,
oppression and cruelty and horror,
that the false walks around puffed up and defiant
and honored often as genuine and good,
that leaders often lie and the lonely often hide
and the walls we keep between us shield us mostly from solution,
and I grieve where money is power
and pretense is importance
and service isn’t noble
and children ache with unmet need
and become parents who pass down the disease.
No, mine isn’t the bliss of ignorance.
I’m marinating more in the muchness of hope,
the kind that isn’t false or tricksy,
in the fierce, capable goodness of creative Spirit
who gave us this planet to steward and love,
living Love so willing to be lavished on thick,
longing to be invited into the chaos
(I’m thinking God has healthy boundaries….nothing toxic there)
I’m believing in something more, something stronger
something thoroughly alive,
Light that swallows darkness and does amazing like it’s easy.
It’s real and relational
and I joy more because
there are seeds of restoration
in every surrendered shitstorm.
Nothing is beyond redemption.
“I want to unfold.
Let no place in me hold itself closed.
For when I am closed, I am false.”
-Ranier Maria Rilke