paradox - Mmm

Have you ever felt two things at once? Or experienced opposite ends of a spectrum at once?

This is the story of my life right now.

I just started my Masters a few weeks ago - and I am astounded. I love it. It's demanding. It's so good. I've never consumed so much coffee in my life.

I had to leave school for a few days to fly red-eye home for a funeral. I was so joyful in loving that person. I was so grieved.

Two days later I was back out West. I woke up to an excited friend with news of an engagement. And later, sat with proud, beaming-smile, as my dear friend watched his bride dance down the aisle toward him. I was so excited.

I am starting my first job in two weeks. I have no idea what to expect. I wonder if I have what it takes. I have to trust, them and Him.

Moving to a new city in one week, and this is a move I'd never anticipated having to make. I am excited. I am uncertain.

And then there are the three papers due in the time between now and then. I am bogged down and over-caffeinated.

Even in the midst of all this punctuation, my hopes lay ambiguous in their possibility. I am frustrated. I am impatient.

And so, I have been excited, angry, frustrated, joyful, tense, waiting and ready - simultaneously.

Last Monday, I crashed:

Oh God - I am so smushed by demands, and my own expectations. do You want even my roadkill self? and I'm having a really tough time understanding: why? how? when?


This last week with my Father has been to me, like sweet breaths of fresh air, restoring my failing spirit. It's hard to get to a place where I'll even be listening to Him, to accept this gift, because I have to give up being self-sufficient. Tough notion for a single, young professional. But it's the only way to live in this paradox, between the world now and the world restored, between us as we are now and the hope of us restored:

Blessed, rather, are the chased, the harassed who must daily stand before my enigmas and cannot solve them. My grace is unpretentious, but the poor are satisfied with little gifts.
- Hans Urs Von Balthasar