Life is full of irony. Things that look one way, but are, in fact, something else entirely.
Creepy or helpful? Spiders are rather, well, creepy, but they also keep down the level of mosquitoes buzzing around our heads.
Destructive or productive? Forest fires destroy huge swaths of woods, but the ash makes the land more fertile and without the smoke and heat, some seeds wouldn’t sprout.
It’s something I’ve found in my own personal life. Right isn’t easy. Sometimes being nice isn’t kind.
This week I realized that I spend a lot of time looking for, praying to find the place where I’m comfortable. And I’ve often equated that with being content. But it’s not.
Comfortable does not equal content.
I’m discovering that the things that make me uncomfortable, the weaknesses I fight, are sometimes my greatest strengths.
Like a lot of artists and writers, I fight negativity, depression, the ugliness. But, if I choose, the darkness that hides inside me forces me to see the goodness in others and the world around me. It drives me to be content.
It doesn’t make sense. But all the same, it does.
How about you? What are the ironies in your life?