Some would say it’s by creative design, deliberate intent,
and an overall view of the total scope of things.
Others say it’s nothing more than the inevitable
collisions and collusions of choice, chance and circumstance.
Some say it’s due to the struggle between good and evil,
the forces of darkness writhing in wrath and hostility,
refusing to admit the futility of fighting with the Light:
the minions of Satan versus the hosts of Heaven
and humans caught in between.
I will tell you that what I have seen
is that regardless of the explanations and assertions,
what I have seen at work in me
is that my natural inclinations seldom lead
to any lasting celebration.
I’ve never had a single moment of anything along the lines of vengeance
that didn’t leave me feeling worn and torn and filthy on the inside,
no matter how clearly justified it seemed at the time
nor how long the line of people who would agree.
What I see is that whatever terms I use
to describe the war that rages within me,
the only times that bring anything approaching the sublime:
peace, joy, contentment, satisfaction and fulfillment
or something along those lines—
the only things that still seem good
the next morning, the next week, the next year—
are those things that ring of truth, peace, grace, mercy,
and the incredible strength of humility:
the things that move forward the work
of what is good and decent,
righteous and right,
caring and loving,
treating others as I would be treated
and showing some slight semblance
of the amazing love
with which I have been loved,
and an abiding grace that completely ignores
what I might actually deserve.