I believe in one-thing-living.
I believe in one-thing-thinking.
I believe in finding focus in a world of multiple distractions.
I believe that the pursuit of one-thing gives much needed motivation, direction and clarity. (Check-out Philippians 3:13 if you don’t believe me.)
I believe that double-mindedness brings instability. (Check-out James 1:8 if your don’t believe me.)
I believe in the benefits of one-thing-living and one-thing-thinking.
But today feels different.
Today I’m struggling to focus on one thing. In fact, I have narrowed it down to two things:
Sorrow.
Joy.
Today I am ambidextrous. In one hand I hold sorrow and sadness. In the other hand I hold joy and laughter.
Solomon, of Ecclesiastes fame, told us that seasons like this would come. There would be a time to weep and a time to laugh. There would be a time to mourn and a time to dance. I just don’t think he anticipated that we would experience two seasons in one day.
Today I prepared for a funeral where only two mourners are permitted.
Today my house is full of laughter as my children return from their studies and employment away from home.
Today I learn that COVID-19 has taken the life of lady loved by our church community and my heart feels the pain of that loss.
Today I run around the park as the sun rises and the smell of freshly mown grass fills the air and the joy of the moment fills my soul.
Sorrow.
Joy.
Maybe maturity means we can carry both. Maybe maturity means I can have a sadness in my soul but I also give myself permission to laugh as well. Maybe maturity means my heart can overflow with joy because of God’s good gifts, while at the same time, I allow my heart to mourn and grieve.
I believe in living for one-thing. I know the dangers of double-mindedness.
But today I believe my heart can hold two things: sorrow and joy.
And it is well with my soul.
On my windowsill I have a jar filled half with oil and half with water. The oil of joy at the top and the water of grief at the bottom. I can shake them together and they mingle very briefly – and if I hold it up to the light, they sparkle as they mix – before settling back into their respective halves of the jar. They don’t mix. But they do sit side by side.
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