Valentine's Day, we meet again.
Remind me, again, why I'm supposed to care about a day where it's obligatory to profess my love? Are the other 364.25 days a year not good enough? But y'all already know my feelings on that. I just happen to have a thought (just one) that relates a bit to the holiday--and it applies to everyone, from the happily married to the chronically single.
It's about broken hearts.
But first, a song:
A broken heart, then. Not the superficial kind either, the truly broken heart. It's part of what it means to be mortal, and--I submit--that to not ever experience this kind of heart ache is to never experience true mortality, in all its oppositions.
Because, without having experienced a broken heart, how can I fully appreciate what love can do to that same heart?
There are so many, many, many ways to experience a truly broken heart. Of course, many are familiar with the break-up scenario-- the kind where we question the saying, 'It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.'.... Really? Because I'm pretty sure there are more than a few of us out there who would very much like to take back the time, money, and emotion we invested in a dead-end relationship-- losing sucks, and no one likes a loser. (Right?)
There's also those who wait patiently--sometimes actively, sometimes passively--for someone, anyone, to come into their life and help them to feel wanted/needed/appreciated. And, you know what? Sometimes that patience thing hurts. And with every passing year, Valentine's Day feels like a reminder that, perhaps, some of us are just too unlovable to expect more than a table set for one on what's supposed to be the most romantic day of the year.
But what of more serious breaks?
What about the child who has to wonder if their parents even love them at all, and their heart gets damaged in the process?
What about the parents who worry about a child who is damaging their life with seemingly irreparable choices, and those same parents feel like there's nothing left they can do to guide their child back home?
What about the parents who wish to have a family but--for whatever reason--are denied that opportunity, perhaps only momentarily or perhaps permanently?
What about divorce and the broken families it leaves behind?
What about the husband or wife who has to bury their spouse?
What about the parents who have to bury their child?
You see where I'm going with this?
And do you know what all of these experiences--and the multitude of other broken-heart situations not listed--have in common?... It's love. These situations are difficult, because--in juxtaposition to them--is love. To never know a broken heart is to never know love.
So, here's the question that comes up a lot: Is it worth it? Is it worth it to feel the effects of a broken heart?
Yes! Of course, it is! I'm not saying that it's easy. I'm not saying that the pain during the process isn't excruciating at times. I'm not saying that having a broken heart is a trivial thing easily fixed in a day or two---or even a year or two.
What I am saying is this:
We're all on different paths, experiencing our own situations of love and-- on occasion-- heart-breaking disappointments. And that's OK. The Savior Himself spoke of broken hearts, and He told us that it's not only OK, but necessary, for us to have a broken heart if we are to reach our full potential. Because every time our heart breaks, if we turn to Him, those cracks are filled in with an Infinitely Perfect kind of love--the kind that bore our griefs and carried our sorrows. And if our hearts are filled-in with that kind of love, we--somehow--become better than we were before and more capable of loving with that kind of love in the future.
So maybe having a broken heart isn't such a bad thing after all.
