Certitude? No. Mystic? Yes.
April 1st—the 37th anniversary of our son Paul’s death.
That was the day I was initiated into mystery, not by choice, but by necessity. He did not survive a triple chromosome defect. The doctors had certitude—diagnosis, prognosis, certainty in the science. But I was left with something else—heartbreak: the unanswerable, the unresolvable, the mystery of a life that flickered and faded before it had a chance to fully shine.
Eight years later, we stood in court for another child—ours—the victim of a violent crime. The court that should have seen, should have known, should have acted with justice instead chose acquittal and injustice. An unconscionable verdict. Another death—of trust, of faith in a system, of the certainty that justice prevails. Once again, I stood at the crossroads: certitude or mystery?
What about you?
Have you ever stood in such a place—where everything you thought was certain crumbled beneath you? Where the system you trusted failed? Where the world made no sense, and the only options seemed to be despair or blind rage?
It would be easier, perhaps, to cling to certitude—to stand on the rock of our own judgment, to wield righteousness as a weapon. But mystery calls, even here. Mystery asks: Can we hold grief and hope together? Can we rage and still leave space for redemption? Can we refuse to consign everything and everyone to the discard pile and instead posture ourselves toward the possibility of change?
And then there is the world beyond our personal losses—where leadership systems foster disrespect, marginalization, and hate. A culture that thrives on division and certitude. What does it mean to be a mystic in such a time as this? Can we stand in the complexity of our own anger and sorrow and still believe that hearts can be softened, that minds can be opened, that even the most ignorant can change?
Mystery is not passive. It does not mean we do not grieve. It does not mean we do not work for justice. But it does mean we resist the temptation to carve the world into immovable certainties. It means we leave space for resurrection, even in places where all we can see is death. We create opportunities for transformation while deformation is real and prevalent.
Perhaps you, too, are a mystic.
April 1st. They call it a fool’s day. Perhaps. Perhaps only fools choose mystery over certitude. Perhaps only fools believe that love is stronger than death, that justice is deeper than a verdict, that change is possible even in the most broken places.
What about you? Have you ever chosen mystery over certainty? Have you ever dared to hope when everything in you wanted to shut down?
If so, perhaps you, too, are a fool. Perhaps you, too, are a mystic.
With hope,
Clare
©csloughrige2025
Let go of certitude and open to the
Mystery of the Triune God.
Join us for the ©iEnneagram “Motions of the Soul” Retreat or our Training & Certification Program with Clare Loughrige. Whether you’re seeking renewal for your own soul or professional training in Enneagram integration, we’re here to help you move beyond reaction into transformation.
Join us online or in person this June.
Learn more & register here.
