Broken Hearted

I had never before seen The Heart Skit when our campus minister Neal gave us the thirty second plotline.  Three or four of us volunteered to be the protagonist, but Jessica chose me.  I kept quiet while they discussed who would be the man to break my heart.  They unanimously decided on Neal.  After making sure no one else wanted the part, Neal agreed.  Due to time constraints, the final cast was not able to practice together.

That night, the magnitude of the skit hit me.
1. I was going to have my heart broken on stage in a silent skit.  Can you say: FACIAL EXPRESSIONS?
2. I was going to have to flirt with my married campus minister.

I prayed for emotional strength and thought about boundaries.

During church the following morning, Neal and I took opposite sides of the stage.  In my hands I held a paper heart.  Neal's object was to romance me until I gave him my heart.  We made eye contact and showed embarrassment.  He waved; I giggled.  He took a deep breath and stepped closer to me.  I looked away and made the same move.  He put his arm around me; I leaned into him.  He reached out for my heart, and I pulled away.  He hugged me, I hesitated before surrendering the heart.  We both smiled from ear to ear.  He took my hand and paraded me around.  He pointed into the distance, I looked, and he planted a kiss on my cheek.  I blushed.

Was NOT expecting that.

From the side of the stage came another girl.  His attention shifted.  I tried to pull him back but he pulled away.  From behind, I wrapped both of my arms around his waist; he dragged me across the stage.  Using his foot, he pushed me off.  I stumbled backwards, regained my balance, and ran at him, jumping for my heart.  He pointed to the heart, pointed to me, pointed back to the heart, and got a devious look.

He took his hand off the other girl long enough to rip my heart to pieces and throw them on the ground.

I fell to the ground with my broken heart.

A friend walked by, picked up a piece of my heart, looked at it, dropped it, stomped on it, and walked away.

Two friends came and tried to help me piece it together.  When they let go, my heart fell apart again.

I sat on my knees trying to put my heart back together like a puzzle.  It didn't work.

Brett knelt at my side.  He put one hand on my back and a Bible in my lap.  His eyes dripping compassion, he pointed up, crossed his arms over his chest, and pointed to me.  I turned away.  He tapped me and pointed to the Bible.  I pushed him away.

Alone I sat, cupping the pieces of my heart to my chest.  It wasn't working.  I sat them down and turned my interest to the Bible Brett gave me.  I hesitated, closed the broken heart into the Bible, sat back, and prayed.  I waited until the camera flashes stopped.  I opened the Bible and tucked in the Psalms was a brand new heart!

Praise the LORD! For it is good to sing praises to our God; for it is pleasant, and a song of praise is fitting...He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:1, 3

I love the image of being healed in Christ represented in this skit.  But I think it's oversimplified. 

Heart breaks are very real; being healed is a long, slow, painful process.  I've been there.  Five times last week and my share of times in weeks and months previous.

Our hearts are not the only ones that get broken.  We are often cast in Neal's role doing the heart breaking every time something we find more attractive or interesting comes along.  God's heart breaks every time we turn away from Him.

Every time, ladies, we're infatuated with a guy rather than with Him.
Every time we put our focus in something else.
Every time we doubt, fail to trust, are too hard on ourselves.
Every time we cry, God's tears outnumber ours.

Take a moment right now and tell Him how much you love Him.  Let Him love you back.  Let Him heal your heart.

With love,
<>< Katie

"Everyone Needs Compassion"

"Daddy, what were your five compassionate things you did today?"  I asked.  Dad was getting ready for bed, and I was sprawled out on his bed with a book.  I wasn't moving until I got an answer.

Dad: Helping people get on the elevator.
Katie: Did you really help people on the elevator today or are you making that up?
Dad: Actually, I helped THREE people onto the elevator today, so that's three things.
Katie: No, "Helping three people on the elevator" is one thing.  What are the other four?
Dad: Um... calling Grandma and Grandpa.  Calling Laura.  Um... Four... Kissing in public.
He walked over to Mom, gave her a hug and a kiss, and smirked at me.  Then he came over and gave me a kiss.
Dad: Five!  Now get off my bed.

I called him lame, but I did move.  He asked my five compassionate things for the day, and I gave an equally lame list.

Compassion: a deep awareness for others' hurting and acting upon those sympathies.

I'm pretty sure kissing doesn't count.

Compassion is risking your arm in an elevator door to ensure someone in a wheel chair has ample time to get on board.  Compassion is letting someone cut you in line because she has a screaming child who needs a nap.  Compassion is smiling at the waiter even when he brought you the wrong kind of wine.

Everyone needs compassion.  Did you hear me?  Everyone needs compassion.  Not just those you think are deserving of it.  Not just those who cross your path when you're in a good mood.  Everyone.

It's hard.  Very hard.  But let's work on it together.

So, friends, I ask you the same thing, what were your five compassionate things for today?  How did you show or receive compassion today?

<>< Katie

"Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." Ephesians 4:32