Upon Getting Older
Things I’m noticing about myself as I age:
1. I wouldn’t trade the ways Jesus has shaped my heart through the life-alteringly painful seasons for anything.
2. The older I get, the more poetry moves my soul. And the more I’m moved by it regardless of the degree to which my logical mind comprehends the poetry. And the less I *need* to be able to understand it at a head-level in order to be moved by it in my gut. And I think those gut-level stirrings are the more important ones most of the time anyway. They are fire and life.
3. I am learning to love paradox. These strange nuances and dichotomies that instead of contorting my brain and embittering my heart, are more often nowadays propelling me deeper into His heart. If Jesus isn’t after us understanding at a mental level, what is the deeper, truer thing that is His goal? If He isn’t primarily after us all living on the same page, giving mental ascent to uniform doctrinal truths, what is His goal in allowing and even orchestrating all these differing opinions? Could it be that all these questions are our pathways into a purer love? Even into solidarity with those in whom we wouldn’t normally seek it? I think so…
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