Hope

 From very very early on this thing called love becomes a curiosity, perhaps even a pursuit. We grapple with this concept from a very early age and often times that struggle continues for our entire lives.  To see this image of my grandson reading a book about love gives me both hope and trepidation.  Joy and sorrow.  Understanding his journey to knowing love may not be a smooth one. But what is the point of our role in this life but to try and make that passage kind, safe and welcoming? To take the lessons of our own and share this wisdom to the next heirs of the kingdom. I have heard said our purpose in this life is to love, be loved and remove all barriers to its manifesting in our hearts. How I wish I could swoop in and make straight the way for this wee one. To take all the pain and hurt away before it has a chance to harden any of the edges of this beautiful innocent heart. But love is best learned in the hallows of ones own. The breaking and mending,  the bursting and craving. The exercise of the very muscle that makes it stronger with time. My hope is to root in his very being the magnanimous love that God holds for him. The unconditional space our creator holds for each one of us. How I wish I knew that love at his age. So I will share this love with him, as I share with so many. This promise of God who has loved from the beginning of time to hold a place for us in His kingdom. Brothers and sisters, sons and daughters adopted into His family.  A pure sacred love without end.