Blessed are the flexible, for they shall survive. [1-minute read]

A friend told me he’d met a flexitarian teenager.

She was kinda-sorta a vegetarian, except when she felt like meat. Mostly, she just listened to her body. Mostly, her body wanted kale. (And sometimes it wanted meat.)

This would be a dangerous lifestyle for me. Mostly, my body wants chocolate.

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Maybe us humans are drawn to all things flexi – flexi-time, flexi-diets, flexi-relationships like friends-with-benefits – because we equate flexibility with freedom.

But it’s not (quite) so.

It’s one of life’s paradoxes that –

Inflexibility creates the freedom to be flexible.

Like, inflexible marriage vows make it safe for freedom and flexibility to flourish. Rigidity, self-preservation and martyrdom never saved a marriage. But the soft, supple, vulnerable, flexible hearts of courageously and inflexibly committed spouses – these have saved many.

Inflexibly, unconditionally accepting our kids frees them to fail forwards. Knowing they’re loved inflexibly by us ignites in them the confidence and flexibility to learn from mistakes.

ptrrpt

And God’s unchanging, inflexible love for you and me secures us – and sets us free to love others, bending flexibly around their weaknesses and idiosyncrasies and volatility because actually, we’ve got no worries:

We’re held, inflexibly. And we’re free indeed.

. . .

Happy weekend! *It’s nearly Christmas!* Be free and flexible. You rest in the grace-grip of the Father.

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