For This House
Every Season. Every Space. All for Him.
Every Season. Every Space. All for Him.
I bundled up my two-year-old to play outside, only to hear her disappointment as sunshine streamed down, yet bitter chill clung in the air. “STOP COLD!” my daughter hollered before retreating back inside, defeated by the contradiction.
As we un-bundled ourselves, I started to think about how I often similarly wrestle with reconciling realities that seem discordant—for example, longing for relationships restored overnight or spiritual growth without painful self-work. I want to fast forward through in-between tensions to resolution and clarity.
There is a whole book about this concept called Both/And Thinking that explores how much our brains love making either/or decisions, and grapples with both/and scenarios. But it’s not always this simple.
Humans prefer simple binaries – yes/no, good/bad, right/wrong. Our brains latch onto polarizing mindsets that allow quick reactions without nuance. When options clash in contradiction, either/or thinking takes over.
But many of life’s stickiest situations refuse categorization into separate camps. Work and family, for example, represent an ever-present tension between competing priorities with no clear “right” balance. Individual health and service to community can also feel at odds, as can conviction and compassion when values clash with loved ones.
What we often fail to build space for is the both/and. Work and family are joint priorities to nurture. Self-care enabling responsible rest so we can pour back out. Standing firm in beliefs while also extending grace.
We prefer categorizing circumstances as either/or rather than holding space for both/and. We perceive conflicts as right/wrong, safe/dangerous, prosperous/bankrupt, united/divided. But reality is never quite so dualistic. Sunshine can shine down onto frozen ground. Hard things coexist beside joyful blessings.
Consider the early church, described as persecuted yet walking in the fear of the Lord and with the comfort of the Holy Spirit (Acts 9:31). Or Paul, who declares that sorrowful, yet always rejoicing (2 Cor. 6:10). Or any of David’s Psalms that pain hopelessness in one breath, then praise in the next.
Are tension points wrestling within your heart, too? Loss and gratitude, disappointment and hope, uncertainty and conviction wishing to reconcile? Where might you release the need to rationalize paradoxes, instead allowing them to sit in mysterious balance?
I wonder what else might be possible if we leaned into the both/and rather than labeling things as either/or…
Sometimes, bright skies shine down, contradicting the frozen ground still clinging to yesterday’s chill. But springtime waits ahead to thaw the soil and sprout anticipated bloom. The strangest tensions birth the wildest fruit.
