Muscles are amazing things, if you think about them. Most people don't. They don't think about the yards of ropey flesh draped elegantly around a hard, bony frame. They don't spare a thought on the effort those bundled bands of cells must exert simply to keep them upright or lift them out of bed. Nor do they marvel at the elegant ballet of muscle coordination it requires to flip the bird at that guy that cut them off and still barrel straight and narrow down the freeway at 80 miles per hour. It's a fabulous feat of agility.
It is no surprise then that most people don't know that in order to build muscle, you essentially have to hurt it. When you work a muscle hard, you cause microscopic tears in the tissue, tears that the body must repair, and does, bigger and better than it was before. Over time, this tear and repair results in stronger muscles.
This is true even for the most miraculous of muscles, your heart. But for your heart, it's not just squats and push-ups and laps around the track that work it out. Love does, too. When we love others, we exert our heart. We ask it to endure, to accept, to forgive. We ask it to feel others' feelings, to understand their point of view. We open it up to the bumps and bruises of disappointment, to the strains and sprains of insult. To the massive tears of loss.
In the midst of love's "workout," we may feel there is no point to the pain. Rarely do we feel weaker or more vulnerable than when love has left us broken and hurting. Often it seems we will never heal. But, trust me, you will. Your heart may never be the same as it was before; you don't want it to be. If you let time work its reliable magic and you dare to exercise that most magnificent of muscles once again, you will find hurt, disappointment, and even loss mend themselves into wisdom, patience, and compassion. In other words, you'll find your heart is bigger and better than it was before.
So my friend, endure the pain. There will be gain. Eventually.
In the meantime, repair. I'm certain another workout is on the way.
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