Something Is Wrong with Everything

After sixty, you’ve lived most of your life. You’ve experienced the growth and strain of a family system, the highs of success, and the pain of loss. You’ve come face-to-face with the wheat and the weeds of your own story.

Over time—whether gently or painfully—you arrive at a freeing truth:
No one is good but God.

After sixty, you learn that something is wrong with everything—families, churches, communities, businesses, and you. Nothing is perfect. The best any of us can do is honestly accept our imperfections and admit this hard reality: only God can fully love broken and damaged things. At our best, we struggle to forgive even minor infractions.

You also begin to see how often we play the victim, appearing powerless in order to gain power. If we can look more wounded than the other person, we feel justified. If we can claim the higher moral ground, we think we’ve won.

It’s an old pattern—Adam and Eve, Republican and Democrat, Black and white. If we can point out the flaws of others and highlight their failures, we place ourselves in a better light.

But after sixty, I’ve come to a different conclusion.

Why can’t we simply accept that no one is good but God?
Why can’t we admit that something is wrong with everything—that we live in a broken and unfinished world?

Instead of scapegoating or self-protecting, why can’t we embrace our wounds and weaknesses and ask God to help us live within the paradox of wheat and weeds, beauty and brokenness, holiness and hoodness?

Everything belongs. No one needs to be punished, scapegoated, or excluded.

We cannot ultimately separate ourselves from evil or from our own messiness. Good and evil remain intertwined until Jesus comes—and when He does, He will do the separating.

Reflection Questions
    •    Where do I still feel pressure to “be the good one” in the story?
    •    Where am I tempted to protect myself with blame or moral superiority?

Takeaway
Maturity isn’t pretending nothing is wrong. It’s admitting what’s wrong—and trusting God to meet us there with grace.

Grace to you,
Cedric
Traditionalwriter@yahoo.com