We Contain Multitudes

Embracing nuance

Photo by Marek Piwnicki

*I wrote the following piece several days ago and almost delayed sending it out. While the overarching message is a serious one, it begins lightheartedly and a bit tongue-in-cheek. The world feels a little too heavy right now for such a tone. While conflicts, wars, and atrocities are ever present, when something is widely covered and brought to international attention, it’s hard to blithely go on with life. I will not get political in this space, so suffice it to say that my heart yearns for the peace and conquering love of Christ among every people. After thinking about it, I decided to go ahead and share. The post is ultimately about man’s struggle in discerning the heart versus outward appearances. Perhaps it is a timely message. Amid volleying opinions and heated discussions, we do well to remember that the great cosmic war is not against flesh and blood but against principalities, powers, and dominions in the spiritual realm. As the Great Book concludes, the grace of the Lord Jesus be with all. Amen.

Hello friends,

I’m so happy to be back in this space. Somehow it felt longer than two weeks this time!

For today, I’d like to call out a bit of a discrepancy I noticed between two of my previous posts and then share the trail of thoughts it led me to. Back in August, I shared my “Apricot Jam” story that I entered in the Oxford Flash Fiction contest, and I shared how I participated in it because I do “better with a goal to attain.” Then, a few weeks later when sharing about platform building, I complained about a SMART goal assignment from school and said that “goal setting, SMART or otherwise, is challenging for me.”

I noticed the inconsistency while reviewing the Oxford contest details that I originally shared in preparation for my last post about this year’s entry. As I read the initial statement about needing a goal to attain, I thought about my more recent comments about SMART goals and thought, “Huh. Well, that’s contradictory.” Then I asked myself, “So, which is it? Are you a goal person, or not?” To which I answered, “Yes.”

Here’s the thing. I absolutely do better with a goal to attain. Goal. Singular. I do very well with a particular aim and can even manage a few specific goals at a time. I thrive here. With a narrow focus, I am, as my mother used to say about me, like a dog with a bone. The fact is, I do my best when I put all my eggs in one basket. Unfortunately, this is not realistic as a wife, mom, writer, friend, daughter, sister-in-Christ…but my perfect world is the one-basket paradigm.

Conversely, trying to conceive multilayered goals expanding over months or years, or worst of all the dreaded “Ten-Year Plan” sends me into a mental tailspin. I. Just. Can’t.

So, there you have it. I’m a goal person. And I’m not. This ignited a little exploration of the many ways I seemingly contradict myself or fail to fit into a nice, neat box:

Am I a lover or a fighter? Yes.

Serious or funny? Sometimes.

Conservative or liberal? Depends.

Lenient or demanding? Changes on a dime (confirm with my children).

Calvinist or Arminian? Mostly Calvinist. But I have a leg swung over the Arminian fence.

This list is not exhaustive.

That same day, I read something in Phillip Yancy’s new memoir Where the Light Fell (which on a side note is an absolute must-read). Yancy shares about meeting his wife, Janet, and their early dating days. He’s clearly smitten off the bat and describing her, says: “Unlike me, she believes life is meant to be lived, not observed or analyzed. When I catch her in an inconsistency, she shrugs it off with a line from Walt Whitman, ‘Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself…I contain multitudes.’ And she does.”

Given the day’s pondering, the Walt Whitman quote struck me. Yes! That’s it. I contain multitudes! I can’t be put in a box. I can’t be compartmentalized. It’s called nuance. People are nuanced. Then, my friends, I was convicted to my core, because much to my shame, I sometimes do this to other people. Not my close friends, mind you, or those I know well, but I will judge and pigeonhole some based on a social media post, brief encounter, or an opinion I disagree with. I will fail to see their comment in the context of their whole. I will judge an individual action not as a granular in their multitudes, but as a summation of their being. This shouldn’t be.

I started thinking about Jesus. Beautiful Jesus, who always saw the entirety of every human He interacted with. The woman at the well, the woman caught in the act of adultery, Zacchaeus, Nicodemus. Lepers, widows, and prostitutes. Man looks at the outward appearance; God looks at the heart. Oh, I want to be more like God.

I walked away from that day with a resolution to do better. Of course, seeing with God’s eyes is impossible without His Spirit, but with a desire that aligns with His heart, I feel confident there’s grace to grow. Friends, I don’t want to be put in a box with a reductive label slapped on it. I’m layered. So are you. In our polarizing, demonizing, cancel-culturing world, let’s be like Jesus.