… maybe … beautiful things are … easily broken by the world …

Cassandra Clare, in City of Fallen Angels

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Well maybe Cassandra Clare is right – or maybe she is wrong.

Life is so darn interesting because we encounter puzzles all the time, puzzles in events and one another, in relationships as well.

Are we fragile?  Are some more so than others?  And what is the source of strength?  Are some called in their kindness to be broken for our instruction?  So we might know fragility, and brokenness?  Compassion?  Become in our caring – kinder selves?

And what of strength?

Those who are loved into the world, as small babies – as infants, as children – who benefit from parents who love them more than they love themselves, who place the child first – always first; they are loved into strength and certainty, to confidence and courage … less broken than those kind ones who are forgotten, shelved, less loved.  For them any disagreement is life-threatening, and assault rooted in their failed parents and disordered siblings.  They live in fragility, the world a place of perpetual danger, extinction just around the corner – minute to minute.

Yes, being loved gives strength, and courage – and that tempers fragility – yields resilience, and the certainty of gracious acceptance of criticism.  Yes, a freer existence – less fear, indeed – no self-governing fear.

In the scenes we see of the many others we meet, and know and love – we see the interplay of fragility and strength, of love and its absence.

There is an alchemy of sorts in all this – and we are its witness, and its victim too.

In love we match the witness and the victim, hoping for two whole people to become one/One.

The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer …

Ps 18:2

Our strength, no matter our past and its neglect or abuse, is the Lord our God. Fragile and uncertain, no more.