So this is one of the books I’m taking with me through lent. In it is a lovely wee reflection on the children’s story, the velveteen rabbit. An old, toy horse describes to the velveteen rabbit what it means to become real:
Real isn’t how you are made. It’s something that happens to you When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become real…it doesn’t happen all at once ..
..you become. It takes a long time. ..but once you are real, you can’t become UNREAL again. It lasts for always.
The rabbit learns that this process of being loved into reality isn’t pain free – you end up worn and torn with some of your stuffing knocked out. But as Martin Laird reflects, that’s part of the process of being loved into reality were “love makes us real, and so do our wounds, indwelled by love.”
Love makes us real, and so do our wounds indwelled by love...
What might that say to you tonight? what if we made a wee bit of space to sit with that?