Love Will Break and Love Will Mend
Wherever your broken heart lives today, in whatever stage it lives in–gushing blood, sharpening edges, softening scars—let the love that broke you in two be the love that gently remakes you anew.
Dearly Beloveds,
Lying in bed with a massive head cold, I watch the end of the Netflix limited series, “One Day,” which is about a years long friendship and love story between the main characters Emma and Dex. Without spoiling it for those who want to watch it (I recommend it for all those who love a romance that is more true to reality than it is to make believe), the following is what I wrote upon its end:
What I will tell my kids is this: When you love someone, tell them. The worst that can happen is not for them to not love you in return. Rather, the worst that can happen is for them to not know how you feel and for you not to say it. I promise, love will break you, and it will put you back together again.
It could be the meds or the exhaustion or the foggy head, but it could also be that I know the truth and am not afraid to tell it. Even and especially to my kids. Though my first impulse is to protect them, the deeper knowing within me is that if they keep living, there won’t be a whole lot I can protect them from, especially love. And what I really want for them is to love deeply and honestly and openly, which means I cannot deny them the pain that naturally comes with a deep, honest, and open love.
That’s right. My desire for my kids to love big means that when they do, they will inevitably be shattered in some way, at some time. It’s one of life’s paradoxes that we can either flush down the toilet or embrace with great care. To love and be loved is both magic and science all at once. Love both refuses to answer and provides the best answer of all.
In the Chapter I write as Mary in Blessed Are the Women, Mary says of the night she gave birth to Jesus, “That was the first night I remember thinking: I am never alone, no matter how alone I may feel. This same thought would return to me throughout your life—at your leaving, your preaching, your dying. What of this didn’t break me in two?”
To love anyone–child, lover, partner, friend, parent, sibling, a whole people, a land–is to live cracked down the very middle. Open and exposed. Vulnerable and gaping. It is also to live an ever widening life in which the cracks find repair, not so much by going back to where they once were, but by finding a new way to be.
I often think about Mary after Jesus died. Did she die of a broken heart not long after his death? Did she drown in her own tears? Could she find words to pray? Was she hunched over in pain? Did her heart beat out of her chest? Were her wails too piercing for anyone to write about?
Perhaps she found a new way to be because of love. The same love that helped her birth her baby boy and that walked with her to the foot of the cross where her child hung dying was the same love that reconstructed her broken parts, allowing her to live, not the same life, but a life, nevertheless.
Mary taught Jesus how to pray by praying. Mary taught Jesus how to love by loving. Mary taught Jesus how to live by living.
She teaches us, too.
Often referred to as the “model contemplative,” Mary shows us a way to listen and love with our whole hearts, minds, bodies, and spirits–afraid only of what life might be like if it isn’t engaged with the fullness of herself.
She sits on the edge of Jesus’ bed when he’s 14 or 15 years old. His heart has been shattered because his first love does not return his affections.
She moves her hand from the top of his dark head of hair down to his shoulder, stroking again and again in a repetitive movement that comforts and calms his sadness.
“I love you with my whole heart,” she whispers. “And while I hate that you’re hurting, I will not try to change it or fix it or remove it because I know that’s a fool’s errand. Rather, like God, I will be with you, by your side, until the hurt softens and the tears dry.”
Jesus’ 14 or 15 year old body relaxes into his bed mat at the sound of her voice. He doesn’t know much, but he knows he’s not alone, and for this brokenhearted moment, that is more than enough.
Wherever your broken heart lives today, in whatever stage it lives in–gushing blood, sharpening edges, softening scars—let the love that broke you in two be the love that gently remakes you anew.
Lean in. Let go. Hold on. Hug tight.
We are but glass shards being pieced together in love.
We are but strings of yarn being spun together in hope.
We are but mown grass on the hillside, ready to grow again.
Amen.
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THANK YOU! | BOOK REVIEWS!
Thank you for helping me get to 45 reviews within a week of the release of Blessed Are the Women! This is HUGE and helps the advertising algorithm kick in and get my book in front of more readers. Thank you, again!
My new goal is to surpass 50 reviews by the end of March, so please, if you haven’t reviewed it yet, do so, and if you have, please encourage other readers to do so! Even if you purchased your book elsewhere, you can still review the book on Amazon as long as you have a verified customer account! Visit this page, scroll to the bottom, and click on the button that reads “Write a Customer Review.”
Please, too, offer love and praise for Blessed Are the Women on Good Reads and anywhere else available to you. The more, the merrier, and I am eternally grateful for your support.
Thank you! Love you! Happy reading and reviewing!
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UPCOMING EVENTS!
3.14.2024 | Fabled Bookshop | Waco, TX | 7 p.m. | w/ special guest Beth Allison Barr
3.17.2024 | Interabang Bookstore | Dallas, TX | 2 p.m. | Learn more here.
3.19.2024 | Seven and One Books | Abilene, TX | 5:30 p.m. | Learn more here.
I’ll also be teaching with the community of Seventh and James Baptist Church in Waco, TX and the faculty at Abilene Christian University while I’m on my local bookshop tour in Texas. Our son, Wade (8 years old), will accompany me during his Spring Break. Your prayers of love and joy are wanted and needed. Thank you!
Thank you for reading my Substack. This post is public so feel free to share it.
Love all of this. ❤️