There is this point, in the afternoon, when the maple leaves absorb the sun and radiate its warmth. Each leaf tinged with shadow and light both, seeming to hold the truth we cannot grasp, the balance of the light and dark within this world.
Often I wonder: what is light if there is not dark also? My logic is too small to understand how goodness could be known without also knowing pain, how joy can exist in us if we’ve never cradled sorrow. Ultimately, I ask: what is love? What is His love for me? And what is really given in ransom for this love?
But the leaves are beautiful, in their lightness and darkness, in the mystery that holds me so rapt to finally understand what Gospel means.