Dark and Bright

I had an odd moment the other day; one of those instances when the inner reality of my thought and the outer reality of the world clashed so violently, that for a moment I was left bewildered. I was typing out my last post about the rediscovery of wonder when I heard for the first time about some of the black things in the news of late; having been on the road, I hadn’t heard about the school shootings and other such things and for an instant, it was a shock that stopped me mid-typewritten-sentence.
It felt incongruous somehow, to turn from the hearing of that travesty to the completion of my thoughts on wonder and beauty. For a moment, I felt almost as if I shouldn’t finish that post; the seeking of childlike wonder seemed suddenly so flimsy next to such bitter flesh and blood realities. But as I sat in that silence of thought, I felt a sudden surge of steeling in my heart, a strengthening conviction of how vitally important it is to pursue beauty, precisely because of such heart-shattering wrong.
It is easy, cloistered away as I am, to think of beauty as something vague and lovely that will flit down upon my head in quieter moments. Somehow, it is easy to equate beauty with passivity. But what I am discovering is that to live in beauty, God’s redemptive, hope-filled beauty, I must live with heart set and teeth gritted in struggle, because the battle to beat out beauty is so devastatingly fierce.Beauty is a fragile presence, yes, but it is a presence that must be fought for and once gained defended. In the face of darkness, it is a flame of hopeful light. Even against the tragedies of the past week, it is even more valuable because it is the sign of a redemption that is coming. It is easy to think of beauty, of grace and loveliness as somehow useless, but that is what this cold old world would like me to think. Beauty is a lifeline, one to which I must cling with every last strength in my soul. So take that you dark old world, I’ll believe in beauty yet!