Tonight, I am writing to you from a heart of fear.
I’ve never seen death before. I’m blessed to say that all of my grandparents and other loved ones are still blessing this earth with their presence and their love.
But there’s a realization that comes knocking on the door of my heart now, and it’s a realization that not only brings tears to my eyes but lets the water works run free.
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket–safe, dark, motionless, airless–it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.
The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from the perturbations of love is Hell.”
–C. S. Lewis–
And here I am now, vulnerable to one of my greatest fears, and all I know to do is pray.
“A voice says, ‘Cry!’
And I said, ‘What shall I cry?’
All flesh is grass,
and all its beauty is like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades
when the breath of the Lord blows on it;
surely the people are grass.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
the Word of our God
All I can do is pray…