The Messiness of Being Human

Something I wrote a while back……

God, Your plan will work out if we walk by faith, and love ourselves and others in spite of the messiness of being human.

We are all imperfect, and that’s part of what makes us beautiful—like the clouds that glow in the sunset—like the dark and dull threads in a brilliant tapestry.

For roses have thorns, lazy summer days have rainbow-iridescent wasps which have stingers, quiet spring forests have lively young ticks. No getting around it—it’s an imperfect world. Precious babies arrive through sweat and pain and moans and fear, fallow ground has to be plowed up, and fruit trees have to be pruned. People we love hurt us, then they get hurt or sick, and eventually they die and/or leave us. It seems there is always a great big OUCH in the middle of the loveliest day of our existence. There is always a nagging doubt waiting to drag our spirits down.

But God, You are always present in the midst of the fire…
this poor old beautiful world.

Help us see You and feel You, God, as You work Your wonders!


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