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Posts Tagged ‘heart’

I’m sitting here in a little coffee shop in downtown Safety Harbor with my boyfriend, looking out the window at the still-lighted trees and watching all the passers-by in the fading twilight hours of a rainy Florida day. I felt inspired to write what I have been thinking about; how two souls, with two very different personalities, can come to be one.

The Bible says in Mark 10, “…at the beginning of creation God ‘made them male and female.’ ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh. So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” While we all know that this passage, in its most basic form, refers to the sexual (and also emotional) union of a husband and wife, I think there is certainly more to it. In our society, where we spend so much time with our significant other before marriage, we become far more connected and “one” with each other before marriage. The time we spend together, talking, praying, attending church, snuggling, kissing, etc. brings us close together and helps us to form a very unique and tight bond, that we will never have with another person. This is one of the reasons why we are told to guard our hearts above all else, because our heart is the wellspring of our life, everything we do is affected by it. (Proverbs 4:23)We must be careful that we don’t become too emotionally attached before we are married to our sweetheart.

While we need to be careful how close we get, I have been realizing how wonderful it is to have that person to connect to, and how wonderful our differences are. My boyfriend and I are very different in many ways; we have differing backgrounds, tastes, preferences, mannerisms, dispositions, and ways of analyzing things. As we go through our lives together I realize that, because of this, life can be twice as beautiful and twice as sweet. I get to see beautiful things and hear wonderful music through two sets of eyes, and two pairs of ears. Things that I may notice and appreciate in a passage from a book or a portion of a sermon may be different from things that my boyfriend notices, and we both benefit from these insights. When we eat together, we try different things that may be unusual to us, and we often share the meals we eat; this makes the world so much more delicious and twice as sweet. We learn new traditions and share our unique cultural heritages–the world is twice as colorful. Through two pairs of eyes, two minds, and two hearts we experience the world together as one, and it is so much more sweet, and beautiful, than it would be alone.

Two souls, two eyes,

One heart, one mind.

Beating, blinking,

Loving, thinking.

Sharing all the earth,

Sorrow and mirth.

Two hearts, four eyes,

One love, one life.

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On a crowded street in the downtown area of some large and busy city stood a little girl, dressed in a bright yellow dress. She stands, unmoving, amidst the ever moving crowd of tall men in dark suits, on their way to somewhere important. No one notices her, for she is just a little girl, insignificant, with yellow ribbons in her golden hair. In her hand she carries a large wooden box, holding it close to herself. This is a very special box, for in it she keeps her heart. She has journeyed downtown today on a mission: to find someone who will take care of her heart. The time had come when she could no longer care for it alone. She needed help, and hoped to find that help soon. Gathering her courage she walked in front of a tall man in a blue suit, who looked less important than the rest. She offered up her box with a shy smile. To her surprise, the man didn’t even see her, and kept on walking. Disappointed, the young girl tried again, this time with a man in a brown suit who looked less busy than the rest. She ran up to him, struggling to keep pace with his fast stride. She stopped in front of him. With a big grin on her face she proudly showed him her box. The man pushed her roughly aside, nearly causing her to drop her precious burden. The child began to worry, and tried offering her box to first one man, and then to another, and another. Frantically running around the mass of somber men on that busy downtown street. She began to despair; no one wanted her heart.

A short time later she saw a man in a grey suit walking toward her in the crowd, his suit is stained. He seemed friendly and less rude than the rest, so she decided to try again. She timidly walked up to the man, and shyly offered him her box. To her great surprise, the man smiled and took the box from her outstretched arms. Oh what joy! Someone who wanted her heart had finally come. The two clasped hands and walked happily down the street together. At first the young lady didn’t ask any questions of her friend, but finally she decided to speak to him about how to care for her heart. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words were empty, her voice was not heard. He didn’t seem to mind, he just whispered sweet nothings in her ear and held her close. She tried again, this time more forcefully, to talk about what needed to be done to care for her heart. The man in the stained grey suit didn’t hear a word, for he didn’t truly know how to protect and nurture her heart. He realized that she would not settle for less than the best care, which he was not willing to put forth the effort to give. After walking only a few blocks together down the busy street, the man roughly grabbed the special box, held it high in the air and threw it to the ground where it, and its contents, were dashed to pieces. He quickly vanished into the crowd.

The little girl was devastated. She sank to the ground, her blue eyes filling with tears as she surveyed the damage. The wooden box lay shattered in a bloody mess on the ground. She sobbed as her trembling hands tried to pick up the pieces…there were so many. The men were still hurrying by, barely making an effort to avoid stepping on her broken heart. She cried uncontrollably as slowly she found one small piece at a time. She put the largest of these in the front pocket of her now bloodstained yellow dress, to keep it safe. She sat there through the night, weeping, too broken to move; afraid to leave her heart alone in it’s unprotected state.

As morning came and the sun rose, there was no hope for the sad, lonely girl. She had not stopped crying since the night before, and no one had come to help her. She had long since given up on picking up the pieces, which still lay spread on the ground before her. A single tear rolled silently down her cheek. As she sat staring into the emptyness she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. It was a man, dressed in a white suit. He had kind eyes and a reassuring smile. “My child, why are you crying?” He asked. She kept her eyes lowered, ashamed, unable to meet his gaze. The kind man gently placed his hand under her chin and raised her head up, looking into her fearful eyes and again asking, “Dear child, why do you cry?” The little girl swallowed, and attempted to speak, but no words would come, only a rush of silent tears. The man patiently asked a third time, “My precious one, what is the cause of your sadness?”

Finally the little girl found her voice, “I cry because my heart is broken, and there is no one to fix it.” The tears flowed freely. She expected the man to ignore her, but he just wrapped his strong arms around her and held her tightly as she wept. When her sobs finally quieted, she pulled back and looked at him, shocked to find that the kind man was also crying. Wiping a tear from the tip of her nose, He spoke, “I’m sorry, my child, that this hurt had to happen, but I can fix your broken heart, if you will give it to me.” The girl was uncertain, but he was so gentle, and seemed to genuinely care for her, and for her heart. “I will help you to pick up the pieces,” he said. The sad girl tearfully nodded and the two slowly began to gather up the pieces together. He took a white silk cloth from his suit and gently placed the little bits of her heart on it, careful to remove the splinters that had come from the wooden box.

They worked side by side, quietly picking up the pieces and putting them back together. The man was silent, and peaceful, and took great care in his work. The girl enjoyed being in his presence; it was very comforting to be near him. The task took them most of the day, and when it was nearly finished the man spoke, “Dear one, there is still a piece missing.” The little girl looked at him, and shook her head. She knew that there was still one part left in the pocket of her dress, but she didn’t think he’d want that one, and she didn’t want to give it to him. The gentle man gave her a knowing look, “My beloved, I have to have all the pieces of your heart to mend it.” She reluctantly reached into her pocket and took out the last lonely piece and handed it to him. He gently placed the final piece on the cloth with the rest of her heart, leaned down, and breathed on it. The pieces began to melt together, slowly becoming one, as if they’d never seen hardship. The little girl was distressed, but she trusted this man, and when his work was done, her heart was like new. “It is finished,” he said. She reached down to pick up her heart, but he stayed her hand. “Wait,” he said. He walked a few feet away and returned carrying an alabaster box. “Place your precious heart in here, dear one, it has my Name on it. Your heart will be safe if you give it to me.” She bent down and picked up the white silk cloth and gently placed it in His alabaster box, her eyes smiling with gratitude.

The young girl was very happy that her heart was now whole, though she was uncertain of what to do next. She looked at her companion inquiringly; he already knew what was on her mind. “Come, walk with me down the street,” he said. “I will guide your steps so that you will not stumble and damage your priceless treasure.” She nodded and they started walking through the crowd together. As they continued on their way, several men turned their hungry eyes in the girl’s direction, glaring at the strong man who walked with her and carried her young heart under one protective arm. Frightened, the little girl took her companion’s hand, clinging to him tightly. She worriedly looked up into his clear eyes, and he laughed, “Do not be afraid, they cannot harm you, as long as you walk with me. The box has my Name on it, they cannot take your heart without my permission.” She was relieved, but still a question remained. He knew. “I will help you,” he said, “to find someone to give your heart to, but you must trust me to show him to you.” She nodded and they walked on silently as before, no longer heeding the furtive glances from the crowd. After a few minutes the man asked, “Would you like to carry your heart for a while?” The little girl replied with a shy smile, “No thank you, I know now that I cannot take care of it by myself. It’s safest when it’s in your hands.” He smiled a kind and gentle smile, which she returned. The little girl knew that her heart would be protected, and that she would never again be alone. And so they walked, hand in hand, in companionable silence down the still crowded street.

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