Take Heart

I saw a heart carved into the sidewalk on my walk to work yesterday and I took it with me. Maybe you could too.

Imbedded in concrete, the heart got me thinking: portrait or pothole? Human-made or divine?

Could snow have melted, sunk into a soft part of the concrete, and then, as it froze, spread out in a perfect symbol of love? Or, did some cheeky sprite carve it there before the concrete settled and I only noticed it now?

The question nagged at me throughout the day. I almost called some concrete pourers I know to ask their opinion, but I felt like the answer might be obvious to everyone but me.

Eventually I decided that it really didn’t matter how that heart came to be, just that it is.

Same goes for the heart I found carved into the hard wood floor in my dining room. It showed up one day years ago and no one admitted to that particular artwork. A recent floor resurfacing project smoothed it away, but I’m half expecting it to pop back up some morning when our old house thinks someone in it needs a little extra love.

Hearts abound in this old, scary world, almost as much as the love they represent.

Even during troubling times, we can take heart in that.

I saw this heart carved into the sidewalk on my way to work yesterday. Anyone know who carved it? Man or God?
We saw this heart yesterday too as we walked to school. Hearts abound, man. Almost as much as the love they represent.

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