Sometimes 1+1=1

On my walk to the recycle container in my community, it’s not uncommon to see something eye-catching for the first time. Recently, this was the one.

There are other larger clusters of similar design that I’ve wondered over, so this one hadn’t stood out. Now I cannot not see it between cul-de-sacs C and D.

I’ve also been walking through Romans. Explains the eye-catching.

Chapter 11 has always grabbed my attention. It’s Paul’s graphic image of wild branches (representing Gentiles) being “grafted in” to an olive tree (representing the Jews). His message is layered, but it ultimately describes exactly who God’s mercy is for…Everyone.

Interestingly, the next chapter starts with words that indicate Paul’s not done with this thought. This continuation is a well-known 1+1=2. Except, I’m not sure we always see the equation.

Chapter 12 pleads for believers to worship God for his mercy by offering ourselves as “living and holy sacrifices.” No individual, no one people group is better than all the others. In fact, we are one; we are reliant on each other like parts of a body.

Just as our bodies have many parts and each part has a special function, so it is with Christ’s body. We are many parts of one body, and we all belong to each other. Romans 12:4-5 NLT

Maybe the equation Paul is telling us is more accurate is 1+1=1.

If I knew an dendrologist (confession: I googled that), I’d invite them on a walk to cul-de-sacs C and D. Imagine what other equations there are to be reminded of…or to consider from the Creator’s point of view.

“Show Me Your Ridiculousness”

(Enneagram 1 ALERT: Photo may cause hives)

The last time I quick-trimmed the hedge by the drive, it was pretty near impossible to not do the same to my neighbor’s.

The main thing that kept me from intruding was the ridiculousness of the pink bloom.

Guess where my eye goes every time I drive down the cul-de-sac.

Which is always the effect of ridiculousness-you can’t seem to stop looking, maybe because of the sheer awe.

The word ridiculous took on a new meaning for me while listening to a podcast episode last weekend-the same day of the quick-trimming. It wasn’t a direct quote, but the implication by one of the guests was this: “God is ridiculous.”

It may sound like rejection, but that’s not even close to how they used that adjective. The extreme opposite.

Modern slang of ridiculous means overwhelmingly amazing. Like Usain Bolt’s Olympic breakout in 2008 in Beijing. Or the view of the mountain backdrop when I walked out from dinner in April in Maui. Or my grand niece’s reaction every time she eats ice cream.

It’s ridiculous to me that this bush has only two blooms…and one of them belongs to this branch…and it’s lusciously pink…and it’s not resting on the pavement. To be honest, and that no one has trimmed it.

It’s a small example, one of infinite number, of God’s ridiculousness.

  • His ridiculous care for all the creatures (beetles, squirrels, bunnies, geckos) I pass during my early morning runs.
  • His ridiculous patience for all the humans he passes…all at once…at all times…without end.
  • His ridiculous attention to meeting needs before they are even realized.
  • His ridiculous forgiveness to all who misrepresent his image he copied to create them.
  • His ridiculous provision for peace at a table set for two in the middle of a battlefield.

Something may be hindering your ability to see it. My instinct is to encourage you to pray about it. That might be too much to ask. If that’s where you find yourself, here’s a prayer you might voice.

God, right now I’m struggling to appreciate you and being amazed by you. Right now, I could use your power, your rest, your peace, your acceptance, your embrace. Truthfully, I’m not really sure what I need. Maybe what I need most is for you to show me something so ridiculous that can only be explained that you provided it. Will you do that for me?

Amaze me. Overwhelm me. Show me your ridiculousness.

“Welcome to My Image!”

This view through the slider of my Florida room continues to grow as a favorite. Certainly gave me thought this weekend.

The palm tree in the background represents how I’m tempted to think life should be. Straight up. No curves. Plenty of abundance visible to all. Healthy and alive. Pretty near perfect.

Maybe that’s why it’s barely visible by the opposing look of the foreground tree. Life represented by what’s closest.

Sudden turns, like the end of a highway with only one way to turn to keep ascending.

And that’s after a three-way option. Still proceeding skyward, just in different directions.

And closer to the base, a couple of knubs that have a story before my time. What happened there? A human? A storm? Both?

What’s close is beauty, uniqueness, character carved over time into one of a kind.

How’s that for a God whisper?

“I’m making you beautiful, unique, with character unlike any other. Welcome to my image!”

Asking and Letting God Do Surgery

More from Mark Chironna’s “Rising With Hope” devotional

Here are three clips:

Before you pray for God to change your circumstances, ask Him to adjust your way of seeing them. (Day 22, Being and Becoming)

You are not a compartmentalized being, and God has not called you to disregard any part of yourself. (Day 23, Living in Your Body)

When He searches your heart, you can trust His gentleness. He will locate the triggers of your unrest, but His surgery is not only about removing what needs to go. It is also about resuscitating the precious parts of your heart, including the hopeful, creative places that have lain dormant under the weight of oppression and disappointment. He will awaken you to the living soul you were becoming and were created to be–the one who became hidden from sight over the course of time.. (Day 26, God in Your Depths)

The Edges of Darkness and Hope

More from Mark Chironna’s “Rising With Hope” devotional

Here are three clips:

We live in a culture where everyone wants to win all the time. That is not exactly a Jesus idea. Instead, it makes people who have lost something feel like they don’t belong. (Day 11, Not a Loser)

Anything that is left broken in a family tree will only be passed down to the next generation. (Day 15, A Healing Life)

When what you buried alive rises to the surface of your consciousness, you can move in the direction of healing and greater peace. What looks like the edge of darkness becomes the edge of hope. (Day 21, In the Mercy of God)

Facing and Being Here With Pain

More from Mark Chironna’s “Rising With Hope” devotional

Here are three clips:

Whatever you do, do not surrender your praise or self-isolate. Lift your praises to God and allow someone in the faith whom you trust to remind you who you are. (Day 5, Facing the Unthinkable)

The hardest thing about being here, in the place of your pain, is the thought that you might be there alone. I can assure you that you aren’t. Wherever here is, He is. (Day 7, Being Here)

David said to God, “You have…put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your record?” Imagine! Your tears are so precious to God that He collects and keeps them! (Day 8, Being with Your Pain)

Forgive Them…They Don’t Know Who They Are

On the way home from church a couple of hours ago, the radio DJ talked about the parenting challenges of getting kids ready in the morning, particularly families who go to church on Sunday.

She said it’s natural for the parent to get frustrated with their “uncooperative” child and ask, “Why are they giving me a hard time?” She suggested parents reframe both their minds and the situation by saying, “They aren’t giving me a hard time; they are having a hard time.”

Guess what? This isn’t only about parent child relationships. This seems to apply to a vast number of relationships.

The “giving me a hard time” framework easily leads to frustration, arguments, harsh and regretful words, anger, and potentially complete breakdown. Then comes the work, if chosen, of forgiveness.

When I consider society’s landscape, it’s in need of mounds of forgiveness. Ideally, parties in any conflict would reach this conclusion together and pursue it. From my experience, that’s not a realistic expectation. If I’m desiring forgiveness to start, I have to take the lead.

I’ve been in awe for years of Jesus’ words when he was dying, “Forgive them. They know not what they do.” In this line of thinking recently, I’ve found it useful to reframe that prayer to something like, “Forgive them. They don’t know who they are.”

Those words are not from an elitist, judging, or dismissing wrongdoing view. I believe many people who are hurting others are doing so while they are trying to answer their own questions. Often in blindness. Often in the comfort of what they know. Often in ways that seem right, based on an unchallenged view of themselves and their world.

Like the parent who has to find a way to church with a hurting child in tow, I have to find a way to be present with those who don’t know who they are. Why? I am one of them. I continue to realize how I didn’t know who I was in relationship to others, even in the last year. And many of them forgave me, often without me knowing it.

The power of forgiveness seems immeasurable. I’m working on giving it as much as I’ve received it. Especially to those having a hard time. They’re figuring out who they are.

Four Lifegiving Messages Following Four Sadness Journeys

One final takeaway from Richard Rohr’s The Tears of Things was this: Sadness is a journey to be embraced and valued.

Rohr’s connecting sadness as the avenue the prophets took to move from anger to compassion painted this reality. Sad is not something to “not be.” Instead, sadness is a normal, valid, and, therefore, valuable emotional journey to be completed, to be processed. If the journey isn’t taken, a compassionate life may never be found.

Following Rohr’s teaching, here are four lifegiving outcomes from the sadness journeys of four Old Testament prophets:

Isaiah wrote this after a sadness journey over social injustice:

But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. – Isaiah 40:31

Jeremiah shared this after his sadness journey over covenant breaking:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11

Habakkuk declared this after his sadness journey over suffering caused by evil:

The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights. – Habakkuk 3:19

Zephaniah promised this after a sadness journey over abandonment of God’s ways:

The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing. – Zephaniah 3:17

CHALLENGE: Think back to the completion of your sadness journey. What lifegiving message do you now have? Where could you share it? Who might be in need of it while they go through their sadness journey?

Photo by Ingo Doerrie on Unsplash

How Anger Can Lead to Compassion

My biggest takeaway from Richard Rohr’s The Tears of Things is an overall view of the Old Testament prophets that looks something like this:

Anger>Tears/Sadness>Compassion

Each prophet had a thing they were angry about, either themselves or on God’s behalf. Just that thought alone is oddly comforting. Anger is normal. No matter whose, mine or God’s. Being angry is part of being human. And for those who believe in being created in the image of God, that equates to it’s part of being God.

However, by the end of their writings, or at least woven in them, is a message of the loving nature of God. The prophet, speaking from their heart or God’s, shares the truth that their audience is loved. Somewhere along the way, anger has turned to compassion (more on that journey in the next post).

How? How does an angry person become compassionate?

One way the prophets do this is by letting truth step into the anger. Such as…

  • God’s heart is for all people, not just those that look or act like me (Jonah).
  • People’s actions don’t have to dictate my reactions to them or God (Jeremiah).
  • Disorder is normal. It’s in need of some holiness, which can start with me (Ezekiel).

Once the prophets embrace the truth of the situation from God’s viewpoint, they are moved to pursue the available redemption. They show compassion by…

  • Not withholding love from anyone (Jonah).
  • Forgiving and living peacefully with those who wrong them (Jeremiah).
  • Breathing life everywhere they go, even in places that appear lifeless (Ezekial).

Easy? No

Possible? Yes

If you’re stuck in anger, consider asking God for truth to enter your heart that could make way for redemption.

Photo by Trnava University on Unsplash

Hard, Shadowy Love

(A final word from Paul E. Miller’s book A Loving Life)

Part three, “Learning To Think in Love,” contains the most challenging yet helpful direction, particularly chapter 19. In describing discovering God on the journey of love, Miller digs into two main thoughts: the shadowy presence of God in our lives and the need to embrace the hard things in life to live out love.

God’s presence in the book of Ruth mirrors his presence in our lives. It is subtle. He doesn’t leap out like he did with Moses and the plagues in Egypt. If God regularly showed himself like he did at the Red Sea or the resurrection, there would be no room for relationship…By staying in the shadows, at the edge of the story, God creates the need for faith and thus intimacy. The hiddenness of God builds our faith muscles.

A practical illustration of how we live this out is in conversations. Living in the shadows looks like staying small, deliberately on the edge so others can emerge and come alive facilitated by our humility.

Not easy. Particularly in conflict or when things aren’t going as planned or expected. Ruth and Naomi’s journey was filled with hard.

Ruth discovers God and his blessing as she obeys, as she submits to the life circumstances that God has given her. So instead of running from the really hard thing in your life, embrace it as a gift from God to draw you into his life.

May we discover God on our 2026 journey of love.

Photo by Semyon Borisov on Unsplash