Hell-bent at the Table

The dinner table conversation seems to revolve around four things lately.

The unknown, the stop-and-go train state of our life, babies and

The hell-bentness

Of the world, of people, of fleshly marriage.

If there’s one thing we’ve learned about marriage in the last several years

it’s that coming to the table—even in the fray of disagreement, disappointment and discouragement—

means a

thriving love.

Avoidance produces bitterness.

Critical spirits bear hardened hearts.

Nagging births misery.

Selfishness robs selflessness.

And speaking before opening ears lends itself

to misunderstanding, frustration and marriage-feet stuck in the briars.

I could easily talk about the hell-bent state of our culture and its affairs, attitude and newsfeed, but I think that speaking in the context of marriage is analogously profound.

————————————-

Hell-bent isn’t always bad.

It leaves room for intention, boldness and opportune resolution.

However

when it is sown in self and set

On proving, standing, shoving and cheek-slapping,

eye-rolling, avoiding, tensing up and reacting,

The seed itself usually dies

And the righteous hope of what is longed for cannot prosper.

The labor is tiresome, solely-fixed and without proper nurture for justice.

———————

We can view justice differently

But from where I sit

At a home and a marriage built on faith and this undeserved and gracious gift of life,

Justice stems directly from God’s heart

And God’s heart pours out

Righteousness, peace, kindness

Humility, discernment, wisdom

Understanding, seeing, grace

Even

when we’re asked to be the light of justice,

We’re still asked to reflect the heart of what the Maker of this light sows.

———————————

Jeff is his own person.

And I am my own.

Our beliefs parallel and paradox.

Our dreams align and shift.

Our feelings calm and collide.

Our thoughts cross paths and crash.

Our opinions unite and stir.

Our theology nods and shakes.

Our voice aligns and differs.

Our prayers look up and kneel.

Our tolerances link arms and stand alone.

And in all of these things there is a time and a place

And a holy ground to stand on

Where we get to see the only person who gave us what this, all of this, really is–

our living breath, a freedom that was never ours to hold so close to begin.

 

And that breath invites us to sow justice that loves well,

Even in the fleshly present of our lives.

 

What a gift we have,

and what if we lived hell-bent on unwrapping it for all that it is?

 

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