I look back down at the page. Black and white with a pop of color.
Red letters pop … ”If you can believe, all things are possible …”
A black-letter comeback … “I do believe—help my unbelief!”
I got trust issues with God. I believe. Then again sometimes I don’t. It’s just that He can be so … unpredictable.
“Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.” Walt Whitman says it. Reminds me of God.
I whisper to myself the words of the Psalmist, “How precious also are your thoughts to me, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand…”
An unearthing in the dew-drenched garden of my heart. New understanding emerges.
Could it be that when God seemingly contradicts Himself, … my heart, mind and spirit are being s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d to receive the multitude of His thoughts towards me?
That in the place of contradiction, the Spirit of God desires to reveal Himself to me in a new way? An unveiling of sorts … an encounter with His thoughts that enlarges me? That causes me to know Him more? That causes me to love more?
Dressed in black and white with a pop of color, I walk my best-dressed self out of my office and onto the sidewalk.
Businessmen and women on every corner; in the restaurants and cafes, outside of Starbucks discussing local politics and drinking Macchiatos.
And then I see him. A homeless man sprawled out in the middle of the alley.
Delivery truck about to make a blind turn into the alley. I run, arms waving like a madwoman. The driver makes a quick maneuver around us and keeps on going.
The man is not moving. Not sure whether he’s dead or just had too much to drink. I lean in close. No question–too much to drink. And hasn’t had a bath in a while either.
A passer-by calls 9-1-1 and keeps on walking. I kneel next to the man and wait. He’s agitated. Wants to be left alone. Don’t care. I’m not leaving.
I place my persimmon red, over-priced designer purse under his black and white bedraggled head. Black and white with a pop of color.
“Why are you here?”
“Because I’m your friend”.
“You’re not my friend.”
In the contradiction, I remember the words, “How precious are your thoughts towards ME-HIM, O God.”
In the contradiction, I recall the words of Terence, “I am human. Therefore, nothing is alien to me”.
In the contradiction, I encounter the love of God for one of His own and I am enlarged.
“Yes, I am.”
Quiet tears escape and run down his bristly face.
In the moment, a decision made. It’s really okay if God seems contradictory. His thoughts towards me are vast. He is large. I am small. And it’s in the unpredictables of life, that I am enlarged. It’s in the contradictions of life that I learn to love.