This is a story about a man who has two hearts:
Such wasn't always the case. When he was a young boy, he only had one. He would play on the playground with his friends, in the backyard with his toys and chase the cat around the house like all boys do.
But then, he met the source of life. He came to learn that the source of life was a proper noun, a being. From The SOL he learned that his heart wasn't working right, that it had been corrupted and that it was effecting every other part of his life. The SOL had given him a new heart, to fix this problem, but he didn't take away his old one.
Now he has two hearts. It has become a daily battle as to which heartbeat he will live by. Some days, his older heart beats stronger, and other days, he knows that his new heart is pumping louder, stronger, clearer. Even this distinction was a long time in coming. Eventually he began to identify the rhythm of the sick heart. It beat to a different dance. It was more fun, more entertaining, perhaps even more natural at times. But it was very different, opposite in fact, from the constant, steady, regular beat of the new heart given him by The SOL.
Often frustrated with the hypocrisy and two-facedness of living with these two hearts, he wishes he could just be rid of one of them. Most of the time, his choice would be to keep the new one. But sometimes, if he is honest, he likes the excitement of his old heartbeat better.
However, simply choosing one and discarding the other is far and away a gross oversimplification. Getting rid of a heart, no matter which one, requires at one level, delicate surgery, and at another level, the brute force of carnivorous destruction. Both demand resolve, training, concentration, and time, and both result in pain and necessitate healing.
"Why couldn't it just have been my kidney?" he often moans, wearied by the tole of living such a demanding life. Then, as if being told by The SOL Himself, he realizes that such thoughts are driven by the old heart as a distraction from the gravity of the truth at hand: His heart is sick. Not his kidney. Not his leg, or his tonsils or his spleen. His heart. But of course, his heart effects all the others.
So he must rely on The Source of Life for living. He laughs. "Duh."
This man has two hearts: One heart leads to death, the other to life. The first is fighting a losing battle for his body, at the expense of his soul. The second is slowly gaining ground in the battle of his soul, at the expense of this body, with the promise of another. The sick heart recognizes only lies as seen through the lens of disease and selfishly screams 'Get what's yours before your gone!', relying on nothing and everything at the same time. The new heart, relying on The Source of Life, sees Truth for what it is and humbly proclaims 'Die to yourself to truly live.'
The old heart hates this post.
The new heart is writing it.
But then, he met the source of life. He came to learn that the source of life was a proper noun, a being. From The SOL he learned that his heart wasn't working right, that it had been corrupted and that it was effecting every other part of his life. The SOL had given him a new heart, to fix this problem, but he didn't take away his old one.
Now he has two hearts. It has become a daily battle as to which heartbeat he will live by. Some days, his older heart beats stronger, and other days, he knows that his new heart is pumping louder, stronger, clearer. Even this distinction was a long time in coming. Eventually he began to identify the rhythm of the sick heart. It beat to a different dance. It was more fun, more entertaining, perhaps even more natural at times. But it was very different, opposite in fact, from the constant, steady, regular beat of the new heart given him by The SOL.
Often frustrated with the hypocrisy and two-facedness of living with these two hearts, he wishes he could just be rid of one of them. Most of the time, his choice would be to keep the new one. But sometimes, if he is honest, he likes the excitement of his old heartbeat better.
However, simply choosing one and discarding the other is far and away a gross oversimplification. Getting rid of a heart, no matter which one, requires at one level, delicate surgery, and at another level, the brute force of carnivorous destruction. Both demand resolve, training, concentration, and time, and both result in pain and necessitate healing.
"Why couldn't it just have been my kidney?" he often moans, wearied by the tole of living such a demanding life. Then, as if being told by The SOL Himself, he realizes that such thoughts are driven by the old heart as a distraction from the gravity of the truth at hand: His heart is sick. Not his kidney. Not his leg, or his tonsils or his spleen. His heart. But of course, his heart effects all the others.
So he must rely on The Source of Life for living. He laughs. "Duh."
This man has two hearts: One heart leads to death, the other to life. The first is fighting a losing battle for his body, at the expense of his soul. The second is slowly gaining ground in the battle of his soul, at the expense of this body, with the promise of another. The sick heart recognizes only lies as seen through the lens of disease and selfishly screams 'Get what's yours before your gone!', relying on nothing and everything at the same time. The new heart, relying on The Source of Life, sees Truth for what it is and humbly proclaims 'Die to yourself to truly live.'
The old heart hates this post.
The new heart is writing it.
This is an autobiographical story of a man with two hearts, me, fighting to live by only one.
I recognize that this little story contains plenty of theological errors and oversimplifications and artistic liberties and I apologize, if even only to myself, for them. This lept from the pages of scripture in Luke 5 & 6 and into my heart (the new one) and mind and took hold and I had to get it out, as rough as it is. If anything, I only desire that it serve as a reminder that God's Word is alive and penetrates to the heart, which is exactly what happened on Tuesday (?i think it was Tues.?) when I read it.
~n8
I recognize that this little story contains plenty of theological errors and oversimplifications and artistic liberties and I apologize, if even only to myself, for them. This lept from the pages of scripture in Luke 5 & 6 and into my heart (the new one) and mind and took hold and I had to get it out, as rough as it is. If anything, I only desire that it serve as a reminder that God's Word is alive and penetrates to the heart, which is exactly what happened on Tuesday (?i think it was Tues.?) when I read it.
~n8
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