Day One: And one more thing . . .
“Hey! Do you mind doing a quick stop at the grocery store on your way home? We only need a few things.”
Does that question sound familiar?
Undoubtedly, most of us would answer, “Sure.”
“How about grabbing some bananas . . .
And lettuce . . .
And blueberries . . .
And milk . . .
And eggs . . .
And bagels . . .
And peanut butter . . .
And rice . . .”
Pretty soon, the list becomes more than just a few things. And, perhaps, one that we won’t be able to remember as the items stack up.
The word and.
Such a simple, often overlooked conjunction.
It binds things together, allowing them to coexist rather than be separated or set apart.
So often, our understanding of God, and our life in God, is framed as an “either/or.”
Either we are blessed or we are suffering.
Either life is filled with light or we find ourselves immersed in darkness.
Either God is near or God is far away.
But what if God is not an “either/or” God?
What if God is “and?”
What if God is both near and far?
What if we are both blessed and suffering?
What if life is filled with light and darkness?
And holds space for the complexity of our experience. It doesn’t demand that we choose one thing over another. Instead, it invites us to embrace the fullness of what life—and God—have to offer.
Because life, truthfully, is rarely one thing or another. It’s typically a beautiful and messy mix of many things. Joy laced with sorrow. Moments of clarity followed by seasons of confusion.
The beauty of it all is that God is the “and” that bridges those extremes. God whispers to us in our struggle, “I am here and I am with you, even in this.” There’s room for our full experience—room for us to be fully human in all of our contradictions.
The next time life feels like it’s pulling you in opposite directions, remember the power of “and.” You don’t have to be fully certain or fully in the dark, fully joyful or fully in pain. You can be both. And God will meet you there, in the middle of it all, holding space for everything you are, everything you feel, and everything you’re becoming.
God is gracious . . .
And loving . . .
And forgiving . . .
And good . . .
And vast . . .
And patient . . .
And selfless . . .
And compassionate . . .
And everywhere, all at once . . .
And peaceful . . .
And holy . . .
And eternal . . .
And I could go on, but I think you get my drift.