Reconciliation is a Deep Gift

Mended ceramic hearts. Public domain.

I wonder if you’ve ever had these feelings that I’m about to describe. If not, I hope that you will have them one day.

There is this palpable feeling in a relationship or set of relationships that have been reconciled after a difficult conflict or chapter of painful history. As that relationship moves forward, there are two distinct moments that bring an incredible sense of awe.

The first moment and first sense of awe is when you realize you’ve truly moved beyond the conflict. As you engage with one another, it becomes clear that the old story is no longer active. It’s not that the past wasn’t significant—it absolutely was — and it’s not that anyone has forgotten it. But now, the pain is no longer active. You’ve reached a point where there’s a completely new normal. And you think, “Wow, that place of pain we once had just isn’t here anymore. We’re in a new time.” You’re writing a different chapter now, and it’s obvious. This moment invites a deep sense of gratitude and awe.

The second moment and second sense of awe comes after even more time has passed. When you’re in each other’s presence, there’s a shared, unspoken awareness that things didn’t have to turn out this way, and it’s miracle that they did. This relationship is what it is now because everyone put in the work to make change and transformation possible. This invites gratitude and awe too. But that’s not all. Here’s what I want you to know if you’ve never felt this before: It feels wildly subversive, as if you are aware in each other’s presence of the gift of one another and how rare this is. And not only that. It’s this feeling that all of the pain, conflict, and trauma could not, in the end, keep you from loving one another. And you know, within your relationship or set of relationships, you are a subversive example to anyone who can see it.

It didn’t have to end up this way. Sadly, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes, pain remains.

But when it does end up like this, it’s one of the best feelings in the world. In my life, I can think of four different experiences of relational transformation like this. These weren’t small things, either; these are relationships that emerged from the other side of conflict, trauma, and estrangement, and all that comes with it. I realize that having four reconciling experiences of this magnitude may be more than most people experience in their lifetimes.

I would prefer not to have experienced the conflict, trauma, or estrangement, of course. But on the other side, the feeling is sacred and profound. It’s quite literally one of the best feelings I know.

And if you’re not there yet, please know that these moments can sometimes surprise you. If you’re not there, or can’t even imagine getting there (I wasn’t able to imagine it easily either) but still wish for it, know that even the desire to be reconciled is born of love. That desire is love at work. And when you put that love into the world—even if you can’t send it in the relational direction you wish you could — you place it somewhere and allow it to be active. That love is still real, and good things can come from it, for you and for others.

Renee Roederer


The Loving Act of Agreement

Flags made at a Pride festival, lining the sanctuary of Northside Presbyterian Church


On Sunday morning, I was in a sanctuary, sitting in a circle with a loving community, and together, we had a time of prayer. During a portion of this prayer, people in the circle were invited to share their joys and concerns, and each time they mentioned a need or a gratitude aloud, they would conclude with,

“God in your mercy…”

and the whole circle of people would respond with, “… Hear our prayer.”

One of the things I noticed during this time was the energy I felt as people named those joys or concerns. I felt in my own body a “yes,” agreement, and it seemed we were all connected in the same energy.

I think this is much of what prayer is about, as well as an address to a Higher Power.

We hear each other deeply, and we
agree,
affirm, and
align.

We cast our hopes in the same direction.

I remember a mentor of mine concluding such moments with the phrase, “May we be a part of the prayers we make.”

The moment of this prayer — this address, this agreement, this alignment — is an invitation to care and act in these very directions. When we address together what’s most Ultimate for us, we align ourselves too. There is great love in the act of agreement.

Renee Roederer