The heart that I hold in my hands, I have held onto for myself. I've worn it on my shoulder, I've thrown it up in the air for anybody to see, I've given it to people, I've left it on the side of the road, and recently I've put it on the shelf and let it eat dust. But nothing seems to fit the place for this heart, or fix it. Nothing I do can put it at ease, it only gets colder, begins to turn dark, and I've secretly begun waiting for the day that it starts falling apart. To be honest, it doesn't feel like this heart has felt a drop of water in a very long time.
I realize that this heart I hold in my hands is not a broken heart, nor is it a bleeding heart. It's a heart that's slowly beginning to freeze over. And I'm frantically looking around, turning this heart over in my hand trying to keep it alive with my own hands, but it's not working. The heart is losing strength. And I begin to lose hope, until He comes.
I know who this person is, because His hands and feet have holes in them, where nails used to be. And for some reason I can't understand, I automatically cover this heart in my hands and shield it from Him. I know who He is, but this heart is mine, and I want to do whatever I want with it. It's the only thing giving me my life, and the scars are evidence of what happens when I give this heart to other people. I look at Him as He smiles at me, and I look into His eyes, and all of a sudden I feel calm and at peace. I pause, and that's when I see His heart, His heart that's on fire. Even from where I'm standing I can feel the warmth and the strength that feels like it could burn forever.
His hand reaches out to touch the heart, but before he does my hand covers it. I'm scared, and He knows it too. I don't know what will happen to it. I don't know how many more scars it will take before this heart will stop bleeding, or when it will stop turning numb. I want to give it to Him, but I'm too scared to simply hand it to Him.
Then He looks directly into my eyes, and speaks these words out of His mouth:
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
He gently pushes my hands away, and I let them fall, leaving the heart unguarded. He puts His hands on it, and takes out the dagger that has found a home embedded in the hearts' flesh, and as he takes it out I see a new wound being made right before my eyes. Anger builds up within me and I scream outrage, but it soon dies as I see the heart's color begin to turn white. In His hands, the hearts' cracks and wounds begin to melt away, and slowly disappear. I can hear the rhythm of the heartbeat transform from a stifled aching beat, into a strong, powerful anthem of love and hope.
And I can see that He has transformed it completely, He had taken away the dagger that never belonged, He took away the bleeding wounds that were draining the life from this heart. And even when He has done all this, His hand is still outstretched to me. And I realize that He wants to give back to me this heart that He has completely transformed. And a wave of fear takes over me, and I shake my head and take a step back, not wanting something so perfect in my hands when I can't even keep it alive. But He steps toward me, puts the white heart into my shaking hands, and covers it with my own hands.
I can't move my mouth, but I look at Him with intense eyes that ask Him a million questions that I feel too afraid to ask. He smiles again, and speaks two words:
"Follow me."
