Tug at my heart

A friend told me I tug at their heart. Good. I hope friends try to rip mine to shreds. They will fail. And tugging at another’s heart, I think, should be done with reckless abandon.

No one’s heart can be tugged to a bad place. That heart is the heart of who we are. When it gets tugged at, it only gets bigger. When someone tugs at my heart, it is because they are touching the deepest of who I am.

I’m not so sure I think any more that hearts get broken, ultimately; just enlarged. Breaking them open might be an earlier step in the enlargement, so it hurts like hell. Hearts are not such an easy thing to enlarge or expand; I can’t imagine how it could happen without being painful. Until I think of love.

When someone grabs my heart and rips at it, that is probably love. And how couldn’t love sometimes hurt like hell? It sure hurt Yeshua. Is that the form by which He is in me? Us? Do you think?

Is the heart the soul? We have an expression, “Heart and soul.” I don’t think that was meant in dual terms. I think it’s an expression that means they are one and the same. Tug at my heart and you tug at my soul. Something that can be tugged, stretched, and expanded infinitely. Don’t you think?

Do you think we mistake a broken ego for a broken heart?

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Published by Neil Durso

Just another mid-lifer sharing the journey...

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