Paradox

At the center of our faith stands wooden timbers and melded iron. Heckles and jeers. Arms stretched taut. Bewilderment. Utter loss. Chaos. A sobbing mother. An abandoned son. Love.

At the center of our faith stands raucous joy. The shock of relief. Grave clothes tossed. Embrace and laughter. Empty, empty. Arms stretched wide. An overwhelmed friend. The giddy delight of sweet surprise. Love.

Love is always a paradox.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Top