Jan Richardson writes,
Loving is always risky, because we cannot enter into it without being changed. Altered. Transformed. In the face of this, we might well ask, Do I really want this? Do we really desire to be so undone?
Loving is never just about opening our heart. It is about being willing to have our heart become larger as we make room for people and stories and experiences we never imagined holding. It is about being willing to have our heart become deeper as we move beyond the surface layers of our assumptions, prejudices, and habits in order to truly see and receive what—and who—is before us. It is about being willing to have our heart continually shattered and remade as we take in not only the brokenness of the world but also the beauty of it, the astounding wonder that will not allow us to remain the same.
Loving is never just about opening our heart. It is about being willing to have our heart become larger as we make room for people and stories and experiences we never imagined holding. It is about being willing to have our heart become deeper as we move beyond the surface layers of our assumptions, prejudices, and habits in order to truly see and receive what—and who—is before us. It is about being willing to have our heart continually shattered and remade as we take in not only the brokenness of the world but also the beauty of it, the astounding wonder that will not allow us to remain the same.
~ from the paintedprayerbook.com archives
A prayer
O Lord, I do not know what to ask of you. You alone know what are my true needs. You love me more than I myself know how to love. Help me to see my real needs, which are concealed from me. I dare not ask for either a cross or a consolation; I can only wait on you. My heart is open to you. Come to me and help me, for your great mercy’s sake … I put all my trust in you. I have no other desire than to fulfil your will. Teach me how to prayer; pray yourself in me.
~ written by Metropolitan Theodore Philaret of Moscow (1553-1633)
from The Book of a Thousand Prayers by Angela Ashwin, #80