Thursday, May 17, 2007

The Crust of a Seared Heart.

The best way I can describe it is that it felt like I watched someone remove my heart from my chest and place it with purpose on a glowing hot-bed of coals, then slowly rotated it over the red coals until it was entirely seared – and then placed it back in my chest for me to try and use again.

A crusted heart is no good to anyone, especially yourself. The idea of learning, or wanting to use it again is somewhere out in space. But I have discovered over time how amazing of an instrument the heart really is. As I sat in reflective thought while staring at the barren landscape of the Grand Canyon area, I likened it to the surface of my heart magnified 8,000,000 times. Huge cracks appearing, while the rest of the surface resembled what I could best describe as the surface of Mars after being burnt to a crisp. But deep inside those cracks was some sort of purity and light shining through. It’s like the heart continually recreates itself, molting the hardened crust to expose freshness and rejuvenation, all while still wanting to continue to protect itself.

My sidekick, Ad-man, recently wrote of ‘letting go’. My brother, I wish it were that easy. And then after all that thought I realized that it wasn’t so much me watching someone remove my heart and char it, it was me watching myself do it over and over and over again in an act of protection and self defense.

It clearly got me thinking.

As in water face reflects face, so the person's heart reveals the person.—Proverbs 27:19

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