Sometimes we choose someone or something even though all we know and every piece of sound advice goes against it. A decision made in the face of good judgment is the equivalent of a raging forest fire that can’t be contained. It’s not a birthday candle confined to a one-inch wick or a sparkler that fizzles after a minute or two. Once it starts, it’s rarely stopped before it runs its course.
The consequences are known in advance but it’s the fraction of a percent that this time will be different that sets the pursuit ablaze.
When the fuel has run out and icy water has doused the embers, it’s black. The heart is charred like Yellowstone Park in 1988. It takes time and seasons filled with sunshine and raindrops to grow back but it will. Just as fire in nature scatters seed and has a strange way of planting new life at the same time it is delivering death so also the heart will find new strength from the bowels of a complicated situation. All is not lost. It looks that way. It feels that way. The eye sees only filthy soot but underneath, there is a channel of redemption stirring.
The blemish becomes a beauty mark.
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