Everyone I have ever loved I have hurt.

Awful knowledge. Unendurable. Knowledge to make one appreciate doubt and the easier way; the way of no cross.

Because if I love, and I make hurt, I am culpable. My fault, my own fault, my most grievous fault.

O save me.

Knowing all I canÂ’t undo, I can only ask for mercy, and can only be mercy in return.

Which is insufficient.

Whom we love, we hurt, because we know we can.

And understanding that brings the deepest hurt of all.

Yup. More of her Lenten meditation here.

Or: "The pain then is part of the happiness now. That's the deal." (Joy in Shadowlands.)

There is no real way out, except in isolation—and that's even more heartbreaking. The Anchoress is right: in the pain of loving, we become fully alive.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 12:35 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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