Love is a verb. Everyday my desire is simply to love the one in front of me no matter how I feel. Watching the news about the victims of Haiti's earthquake, I feel helpless to help...to love and help those in desperate need. My own pain is triggered in the process.
Sarah, Josh's girlfriend was in our home for Christmas. It was such a delight to have her here. She missed her family alot, and when she opened her gifts from them she missed them more! It seemed she experienced both pleasure and pain when she opened their gifts to her...joy because they blessed her with thoughtful gifts...tears because they overwhelmed her heart with gratitude.
Today I was reading Rumi. "The Guest House" made me think, hey, it's okay to feel pain for them, for myself and be human.
"This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
- Rumi
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