::my torn, mosaic, scarred heart::
I'm a perfectionist by nature but I've learned perfection isn't always the best or most worthwhile thing. I'm also a person who loves deeply and is passionate about building meaningful relationships. This story is one that reminds me to engage more of the latter quality and worry less about the former.
A young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it.
But an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, “Your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine.”
The crowd and the young man looked at the old man’s heart. It was beating strongly but full of scars. It had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in … but they didn’t fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. The young man looked at the old man’s heart and laughed. “You must be joking,” he said. “Compare your heart with mine … mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears.”
“Yes,” said the old man, “Yours is perfect looking … but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love….. I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them … and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges.
“ Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away … and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges … giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too … and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?”
The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man’s heart. It fit …. but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges. The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man’s heart flowed into his. (Author Unknown)
I was thinking about titling this post, "home is where the heart is" but I think this story gives a more accurate depiction of where my heart is at. I have felt the scars, jagged edges, imperfect pieces, tearing, and giving my whole life. Some of the most poignant moments have included when we moved from Oregon to New Hampshire, the years of constant turnover living at His Mansion, and coming to college as I constantly meet new people and decide whether or not I want to give them a part of my heart. This story is a beautiful illustration of the state of my own heart. The love I have for people can be described by the giving of my heart whether or not they return it. I have given pieces, big and small, away to more people than I can count over the years, and yes, it's been painful but yes, it's been worth it. I don't regret the relationships I've made, the conversations I've had, the laughter and the tears, the shared events and memories. Some pieces have gone to people who I may never see again after they walk out of my life and others who I'm thankful have been with me for years. The heart is a dynamic organ and so it's often shifting which means some pieces grow and others shrink as my relationships change and people come in and out of my life. I have to be okay with that. Maybe that piece falls away which hurts but it allows somebody new to be close to me. Maybe I become really close with my new roommates this year, then the pieces become different colors and sizes. Every time I look at my heart, it looks different.
It's the beginning of my senior year at Wheaton College. Isn't that crazy? I can't believe it either. One of the things I haven't wanted to face since coming back is the knowledge of leaving and that I might not see some of my friends again and the fear of friendships fading once we no longer live in proximity to one another. But as one of my close friends reminded me when we parted ways, "you're in my heart, no matter what." I'm trying to remember that as I go through my last year at Wheaton. The tearing and giving process continues as I meet my new DSG girls and build new relationships in various places. My time at Wheaton will have been completely worth it if I have a whole section of my heart that is a mosaic of my Wheaton friendships. They will stay in my heart after we graduate and I'll be grateful for the pieces of our hearts we exchanged. I'm also trying to remember to stay present and to be here with my friends now. I get to be with them in person right now and that's where I need to be, in this conversation, laughing at this joke, hanging out here. This is where life is meant to be lived and love happens.
So what am I trying to say? I'm saying, give away your heart, not necessarily expecting pieces back in return. Be okay with your mosaic of a heart. It's normal if it bleeds or sheds tears occasionally. But don't forget to see the beauty and the light shining from it because of the mosaic. Love deeply, even if your heart gets broken. I can honestly say I don't regret the people I've loved and been in relationship with even though I've gotten hurt and the pain lingers. I had the privilege of sharing in their lives for a time and that is a powerful and special thing. Be vulnerable and receive the grace and kindness of others. Love the way Christ loves you. Be proud, not ashamed, of your torn, mosaic, scarred heart.
A young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it.But an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, “Your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine.”
The crowd and the young man looked at the old man’s heart. It was beating strongly but full of scars. It had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in … but they didn’t fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. The young man looked at the old man’s heart and laughed. “You must be joking,” he said. “Compare your heart with mine … mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears.”
“Yes,” said the old man, “Yours is perfect looking … but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love….. I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them … and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges.
“ Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away … and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges … giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too … and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?”The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man’s heart. It fit …. but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges. The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man’s heart flowed into his. (Author Unknown)
I was thinking about titling this post, "home is where the heart is" but I think this story gives a more accurate depiction of where my heart is at. I have felt the scars, jagged edges, imperfect pieces, tearing, and giving my whole life. Some of the most poignant moments have included when we moved from Oregon to New Hampshire, the years of constant turnover living at His Mansion, and coming to college as I constantly meet new people and decide whether or not I want to give them a part of my heart. This story is a beautiful illustration of the state of my own heart. The love I have for people can be described by the giving of my heart whether or not they return it. I have given pieces, big and small, away to more people than I can count over the years, and yes, it's been painful but yes, it's been worth it. I don't regret the relationships I've made, the conversations I've had, the laughter and the tears, the shared events and memories. Some pieces have gone to people who I may never see again after they walk out of my life and others who I'm thankful have been with me for years. The heart is a dynamic organ and so it's often shifting which means some pieces grow and others shrink as my relationships change and people come in and out of my life. I have to be okay with that. Maybe that piece falls away which hurts but it allows somebody new to be close to me. Maybe I become really close with my new roommates this year, then the pieces become different colors and sizes. Every time I look at my heart, it looks different.
So what am I trying to say? I'm saying, give away your heart, not necessarily expecting pieces back in return. Be okay with your mosaic of a heart. It's normal if it bleeds or sheds tears occasionally. But don't forget to see the beauty and the light shining from it because of the mosaic. Love deeply, even if your heart gets broken. I can honestly say I don't regret the people I've loved and been in relationship with even though I've gotten hurt and the pain lingers. I had the privilege of sharing in their lives for a time and that is a powerful and special thing. Be vulnerable and receive the grace and kindness of others. Love the way Christ loves you. Be proud, not ashamed, of your torn, mosaic, scarred heart.
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| Pictoral depiction of the C.S. Lewis quote above |
Excellent post! It reminds me of a great line in the classic book I'm reading right now. "If I can’t be perfect, am I willing to be imperfect, since I can do all things for the love of God?" E. Stanley Jones
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