I’ll write about it–to some degree–at a later time. But for now, I think your life is a puzzle–a big honken jigsaw puzzle that you put together as time goes on and you try to make sense of the picture.
I got a mess of new pieces this past weekend. I don’t quite know how all the pieces fit into place yet, but I know the picture is different now that I have these pieces.
I’m probably going to take these pieces and try to force them together in ways they don’t fit–mostly because I’m impatient and I want the picture to come out sooner than later. The problem with that is, once the picture is clear, the puzzle is built and there’s no longer any need to build.
Fortunately for me, my Father–my Daddy–watching me build the puzzle, is a kind and generous father. When I try to force the pieces together, he’ll either nudge me to let them know they don’t fit that way, or he’ll let me figure that out for myself.
And when I pretend that I haven’t seen the new part of the picture–when I act as if the picture I saw last week is the picture that represents reality, which is something I’ve already done less than four hours out, he’ll be patient with that, too.
I know I’ve be writing about religious stuff a lot lately, but honestly, it’s important to me. I’m not a smart man in these areas. I’m like the stupid little kid who keeps holding my hand near–and sometimes on–the stove burner to see if it’s on now.
But that’s me.
One last thing: if you’re reading this and you’re put off by angry, self- and other-loathing Christians who shatter the dream that would occur if they (we) (I) really followed the rules, two things…
First, you’re right to be put off. And I’m sorry. I’ll ask your patience and forebearance, because I’m figuring all this out, the same as you. I’m not better than you. I’m probably not a hell of a lot worse, either. I’m doing the best I can–which is less than I should be doing.
Second, that’s part of the point. I cannot achieve perfection in this area. My religious belief system is built around that core premise. If I could–if all of us could–we would have perfect justice and perfect mercy. Those things could co-exist. But none of us can do that. (But isn’t that what we all want, anyway?)
So I offer my best–flawed and hurtful as it may be. I understand if it’s not good enough, because–guess what? It’s not. But I give you my flawed word that I’m doing my best.
And I’m trying to learn from my master so I do better and hurt the people I should love better less.