Life is hard.

 

Today I listened to a friend talk about the pain in her marriage. She is a warm, caring woman with enough love to light up a whole room with her laugh. Her capacity for compassion makes her easy to trust and to confide in. I do it regularly.

 

Yet even someone whose heart is wide open cannot always connect to her own husband. Why is it like this?

 

Perhaps you have had the experience of wrapping Christmas lights on a tree. If even one of them comes disconnected the whole string stays dark. Then you are forced to rummage along the wires until you find the broken bulb and replace it. This can take hours when you would rather be doing something much more interesting like sampling the cookies that just came out of the oven, or reading the colorful pile of cards accumulating in the kitchen from friends you have not heard from in awhile. But you want the tree to have lights, so you keep searching. Finally you find the culprit and replace it. Bling! The light sings out from your hands. I am not sure, but I think the other bulbs, the ones who were waiting for their chance to shine, are grateful too. 

 

Sometimes there are parts of us, or the people we love, that are broken. For reasons they may not know they cannot make a loving connection through words or touch. This does not always mean they do not love us, it can simply mean that a part of them is damaged.

 

 

Photo by Andy Sullivan

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