Tuesday, September 6, 2011

the Heart.

I always wonder each time before I write, whether the entry I am about to write will be words of some worth. Perhaps it is silly of me, but even though I like writing about the comings and goings in my life, I prefer to write words that I know hold weight in them - words that I can come back and read to find some small ounce of encouragement or wisdom. It that wrong to want my words to show wisdom? I just want meaning. I feel like I am forever seeking meaning and purpose in my life. A quote that is one of my favorites, and that I have quoted more than once in my journals, is the following:

"I wonder, do we all know where we belong? And if we do, in our hearts, why do we so often do nothing about it? There must be more to this life; a purpose for us all, a place to belong. Perhaps we are all refugees from something. But I see now, there is nothing to fear...that the world we hold onto, the lives we cherish, are apart of something greater, something more. It took me a lifetime to realize, we only have one heart, and we must be true to it."
 Beyond Borders
The more I think about working for the UNHCR, the more I think about people...specifically displaced persons around the globe, struggling. I immediately think of refugee camps aiding families and individuals whose houses were defaced, whose families were torn apart, whose lives have been scarred, whose very rights of being human were stripped from them by those who had no right to do so. And then I think of war torn Iraq and Afghanistan, of tattered Pakistan and the wet monsoons, of genocide and famine plagued Africa, of Red China and child armies, of conflict in third world India and Southeast Asia. These places, whose problems and turmoil are seen throughout the news....are they so much different from the rest of the world? Yes, they make me weak, they make me weep, they make me swell with contrition. But families in America have had their homes wrecked by drunken brawls and abusive tempers, their families torn apart by affairs, closed minds and endless courtroom officials pounding their gavels and splitting families apart, changing their lives forever, whether by right or wrong decision, and Americans (and every other nation around the globe) whose humanity is wrangled in some way or another by hurtful words, loss of jobs, witnessing death...experiencing life. We are all displaced person. We are all refugees from something. 

We have all lost home, true home, and have been trying to find our way back ever since. In a way, it is comforting to know that we are all wayward souls, searching for significance and meaning in this life. And yet, how hard it is to live when you are so dolefully lost. In this world, we strive to be found, to be at peace, to find a home, a refuge.

A home can never be an exact location - in fact it can never be a spot on earth. Neither can it be seen by the naked eye - it must be felt. Home is where the heart is, and that is why it is so hard to trace - Where are our hearts? I feel as though I lost mine long ago, and have never been able to find it. This heart of ours, this human heart, reverberating through our bodies, is one of the most powerful of things in this world, and yet one of the most vulnerable. Vulnerable because it is living and anything living must come to an end. Also vulnerable because it is such a curiously unprotected part of our body that beats ferociously, and yet can be ended so quickly and easily. Powerful in the sense that out heart is also our soul. And being out soul, it lives forever, reverberating through eternity, albeit separate from our human form. So this heart, this soul, this home, how are they to be found? We must search for them, of course, but where on earth do you begin to look for something so incredibly huge and also so unbelievably invisible?

"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also"  
Matthew 6:21
My treasure is in helping others, and it is here that I am at home. Where is your treasure?

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