For many, faith is black and white.  Right and wrong.  I long to communicate my desires, my realities, my journey… and yet, how can I do that for those who can not hear?

I think discussing faith like mine is like discussing complex relationships and love to someone whose heart has never been entangled, broken, smashed, glued back together with a few pieces on backwards and picked back up to be loved all over again.  Folks who are new to love believe, nay, KNOW that love can do no wrong.  That all is beautiful.  That if you understood their love it would all be okay for you.

And then they get their heart broken.  And they blame you, for mentioning it could be any other way, for breaking the spell.

They are enamored, and see the world simplified, codified.  The world is black and white, and grey might be tolerated, but what is this blood red and sky blue you speak of.

My faith is sticky.  It is gooey, broken, hard, challenging, inspirational, breathtaking.  It comes in a thousand colors, and the chords of the songs sung on the whispers of a sigh.  Sing me more than a simple song.  And yet… I appreciate your basic tune.  I love the classic ditties.  And I hate to shatter such illusions- of love, of faith, of life.  And yet, and yet… black and white is a lie.  Grey tells no tale.   Share your rainbow with me.  Share my rainbow… from side to side and back again.