Earlier today, While exiting Walmart, I overheard two men arguing. One speaking on his faith, the other scoffing at belief itself. I lingered a bit like an invisible witness, just to hear what was being said..
The faith that man carried was loud... The scoffer came across as sharp and knowledgeable of the mundane struggles of reality. Neither listened. Neither paused. And yet, both were searching. one for certainty, one for proof. The human condition, exposed in fluorescent light and asphalt cracks.
I thought of Paul: “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face.” Here it was, reflected in Walmart parking lot: the imperfect, the fractured, the desperate human cry for understanding. Faith weaponized. Logic weaponized. And me, a witness, holding quiet, knowing the pulse beneath.
Because even in the clash, grace whispers, not in the winning, not in the proving, but in the recognition that we are all fractured, all searching. And perhaps that recognition is where mercy begins.
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