Some Sunday afternoon thoughts:

 

 

As I have been reading and relaxing this weekend, I have been drawn in my thoughts to the matters of the heart.  I don’t know if I really even think about my heart much, yes it pumps blood breath after breath, pulse after pulse, but what about the emotion of the heart?

Pain, joy, affliction, beauty, moments that I wish could last for ever, and moments that I wish never would have happened.  The seasons in our lives pass with or without our permission.

 

I love the utter complexity of the heart. There is no clear definition that I can find that truly explains the depth, the breadth or the magnitude of the heart. It is wired into us, it is part of our core being. We cry, we laugh, there are even times that we feel like we can’t go on because things are just too much to bear.

 

I read a quote from Blaise Pascal that states; “The heart, has its reasons which reason knows not of”

I really think that the heart is a more a part of us that we want to acknowledge. It informs our decisions, our choices, it affects our judgment, our longing, our desires. 

 

You know the saying, “all good things come to an end”? I really hate the saying.  It is a bold lie. We were built for something so much bigger than our minds can fathom, and if we listen to our heart, it speaks to us that this world cannot be the way things were intended to be. Our heart cries out for a longing that addictions, possessions, or experiences can’t fill. 

 

‘”Our creator would never have made such lovely days, and given us the deep hearts to enjoy them, above and beyond all thought, unless we were meant to be immortal. ” Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

 

 

I am so thankful for the beauty and the affliction that has been, and that will come in my days on this earth. I am thankful for the moments that I get when things seem to “make sense” or that moment of sheer amazement when I look up into the big sky, or the music that touches my heart and makes me want to cry, or dance, or shout with joy. 

 

Such beauty and affliction, such beauty in affliction.