Facts and truth really don’t have much to do with each other. (William Faulkner)
For well over an hour I tread water in the adults-only side of the pool and feel temporarily invincible. The air is hot and the water cool as I kick and spread my arms over the water, no need to touch the bottom to feel safe. Of course I know this is play. My life is okay at the moment, with more ups than downs—not perfect. Few people live a utopian existence.
However, one simple thought about imperfection brings to mind some people who need a miracle, immediately. I can’t provide it. In fact, every time another bit of news about their particular situation arrives I find myself holding my breath, as if I were underwater; it doesn’t help. The facts don’t change. And truth is beyond my understanding. It is far larger than anything I can comprehend. I keep hoping that this is only their forty-years-in-the-desert portion of a glorious adventure in a grand new land. But, I don’t have any of the previews for tomorrow. I scarcely have all the information I need for my own agenda for the rest of the week.
I suspect many people have concerns about friends, family, that little old lady next door who seems to have experienced more than her share of disaster and sure doesn’t deserve it. Life isn’t fair, not a new notion.
All I can do is to continue to tread, in and out of the pool—and to love as fully as I can. Dragons can be beaten. Sometimes swords just make them angrier, but forgiveness and acceptance confuse the heck out of them. I guess you just need to know that particular dragon’s vulnerabilities or needs. And that is how the miracles come in. I pray for that kind of truth; when slaying dragons it’s the only kind of knowledge that counts.
terrypetersen 