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It has to be this or that. Paradoxes are not allowed, They must be resolved. If one wins, Another must lose. Dualism reigns. But then: A child divorces. A good friend is gay. Your co-worker is Muslim And more like Jesus Than you. Your strange neighbor of 10 years Is suddenly not so strange. You feel his pain, And desire his peace. Your familiar and safe world Falls apart. Confusion reigns. Some pieces No longer fit. A “good” Samaritan? A “faithful” Syro-Phoenician woman? A “godly” sinner? I’m lost. It feels like death. “My God, my God! Why hast thou forsaken me?” I’m not unique. There are many like me, Who are not like me. I’m not good – Only afraid. Fear is not goodness. My arrows return like a boomerang - And strike a fatal wound In me. I weep. Give up control. Embrace the mystery. Forgive, And am forgiven. Both can win. Both can be true. Everything belongs. It’s all good. It just is. The chosen remain frozen, While sinners fall and rise. John Alan Shope

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1 Dineen Carta = "Highlighted this to say "Wow!"  This poem is right on target!  If you look and listen, and then love, you live your way out of dualism into the acceptance of paradox.  Thank you for sharing this!"