Eucatastrophe

There is a eucatastrophic shape to the contours of the universe—a good calamity paradox at the heart of human existence. I can’t explain this, but I can’t explain it away. It’s something I believe down in my bones, and, indefatigably, my life bears witness to this reality. Nevertheless, I still struggle daily to surrender to the eucatastrophic mystery that is baked into the whole thing. To live paradoxically requires a Kierkegaardian-like leap of faith—a willingness to become like a child again, a child who in his or her wildest imaginations, dreams of the fairy tale ending beyond the dragons, ringwraiths, and necromancers where everything tragic, ugly, and sad comes untrue.