the parable of the heart collectors...

Once upon a time, actually not that long ago, in a land far far away, actually not that far, there lived three men, heart-collectors by trade. And there also, during the same time, lived a girl, fair-skinned and dark-haired. The girl had developed friendships with all of them over the years and over time began to find herself wanting to spend more time with each of them. However, she knew that she would have to choose very carefully the one that would be most responsible with her heart. So she tested them.

She took her heart and gave each a piece of it. She laid it open there for them to take hold of and cherish and nurture. She made herself vulnerable to them. All three had very different responses.

One of them, the first man, simply took it and held it close for a minute, as he had done with other hearts he’d received, grateful that he’d been given a chance to see something so precious and beautiful. And after cherishing it for a few moments, he gave it back to the girl and told her she should save it for someone more worthy of her affections and her beauty. She took it and thanked him for being honest with her and responsible with her heart. She put it back in its place and it burst into life, beating and pumping again. She knew her happiness did not hinge on his reaction or the reactions of the other two.

The second man, the one whom she favored most, did nothing. He simply ignored it. It lay there out in the open on the table; he averted his eyes as he walked around it every day in his busy-ness. He told her nothing and gave her nothing. He did not hold it gently, did not cherish it or respect it, or nurture it, or give it back to her. In his pride and selfishness he let it lay, the beat slowing and its tissue dying as he went about his busy days. Though her happiness did not depend on his feelings for her, because he was the one she favored the most, this hurt her.

She knew from the beginning that she could get hurt. But instead of continuing to wonder, she risked it all and gave what she had in her attempt to find the one with whom her heart would flourish, the one that was created for her, whether him or someone else. She knew she might never know of the one unless she risked her heart and risked getting hurt along the way. She was willing to risk because she believed in love with every fiber of her being. She knew that when that one finally came along, he would make all the hurts along the way worth it.

The third, the one whom she least expected would be the one for her, took the heart she gave him. Of all the hearts he had collected over the years, this one was the most extravagant and priceless by far, infinitely invaluable. He took it gently; pulling it close to him, he uttered prayers over it for her and for the two of them. He thanked his Creator for making something so radiant and for loving him enough to allow him even just a glimpse of such beauty. He then took the heart she gave him and offered it up to the Creator for him to take care of. In his selfishness he wanted to keep it for himself but he knew that if he wanted it, he would have to give it up.

A couple days later, on his journeys, he came across a house and discovering he was thirsty, he knocked. When the man who lived there opened the door and invited him in, he was taken aback. For there he saw the heart that the girl had given this man, the man that did nothing with it. It was black and had nearly completely lost its beat, almost dead. He took it and scolded the man for being so reckless with something so priceless and precious. He fled the house without his drink. On his way home he held the dying heart in his hands, lifted up to the sky and to the Creator. As his prayers went up mixed with his own love and affection for the girl and for her heart, the dying heart began to be filled with new life again. The black pain of being ignored and rejected for so long sloughed off and revealed fresh life.

From far away the girl could feel the heart in her chest, the one that the first man had given back to her, change its beat. She could feel joy overwhelm her and at the time she didn’t know why. Little did she know that her heart and his heart were syncopating. Their two beats were becoming the same. As he got closer to her home his joy and her joy filled the space between them and went up to the heavens. They lifted up their voices in praise to the Creator for hearing their prayers and for answering them and bringing them both love, luminous and lively.

She had her answer and she gave the remaining piece of her heart, the piece that the first man had given back to her to the man that had been the most responsible with the piece that he originally received, and then with the piece of her heart that had been ignored and rejected and left to die. He had been the one who gave them up and surrendered those pieces to the One that could take care of them the best even though he knew in his own selfish flesh that what he wanted was to just keep the pieces of her heart and her for himself. Instead, he put all the pieces back where they belonged. All three pieces he gave back to her and told her that he could cherish and love her heart more if it was where it was meant to be. And he thanked her for showing it to him and sharing it with him and also told her that he will always want to know more of her heart but that she can do that best if her heart is in its rightful place. Together they took both their hearts and offered them up to the Maker. He reached down from his dwelling in the heavens and cupped his hands. Both the man and woman gently placed their respective hearts in his hands, where they would best be taken care of and where they were safest.

From that day on their love for each other only grew and their love for their Creator also grew because they both knew that neither of them held the other’s heart and that they were both whole and complete apart from the other but that their two complete selves were better together as one.

Which one of the three are you? Which one do you want to be?