The Condition of the Heart

A cold drink of water is most appreciated by the exhausted thirsty.  Who can appreciate hot bread without being hungry?  A warm blanket is not appreciated by those that do not know cold.  A doctor only sought for by the sick.  Who can speak of love, who can know its depths without the knowledge of the brokenhearted?

Her broken heart remembered the days, she still longed for his touch.  Never able to put away the wedding pictures, still watching out the window for his return.  She sat on a Friday night at the cafe and closed her eyes, someone passed, she looked up expectedly and smiled.  Her blushing cheeks told that he, she hoped for, had not approached.  The stranger passed by.  Why did she still long for his return?  Didn’t his leaving do its damage?  Didn’t his eyes now turn to another?  How could she hope to hold his hand again and to rest in his protection again?  It could not be.  But hope was hard to still.  And a broken heart was slow to heal.

All the people are broken hearted.  All the women are disappointed.  All children born cry to be loved.  Mankind are created with a hole in their hearts.  All sit and wait for the return of the lover.

We long to be loved because He first loved us.

Who will show me love?  Who can teach its meaning?  Can the broken heart be mended?  What can fill the heart’s hole?

The heart’s hole is bigger than my body.  It extends above the earth.  It searches and aches and cries out.  No thing of this earth is found to be a match.

His hand reaches down.  His love hangs on the cross.  He knows my pain and loves my heart.  He is the lover that will never leave.  The only true promise of forever.

Water to the thirsty, bread to the hungry.  A warm blanket on a cold night.  The doctor that heals the sick.  The love to fill the hole and mend the broken heart.

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