I contemplate the mystery of what it means to be a woman, to have a woman's heart beating ardently within my chest. Time and time again, I find myself wondering why it is that we can't help but love so purely and feel so deeply.
God must have known what He was doing when he formed the feminine heart. Nothing is as intricately designed or beautifully woven. He painted every unique pattern with precision and care, imprinted the holiest desires in every hidden alcove, and sadly anticipated every scar that would form as a result of the world's brokenness. He foresaw every breath we would take, tear we would cry, and prayer we would utter. All for the sake of our misunderstood hearts.
And He consoled us with a promise. That by giving our hearts to Him, to guard and protect from harm, we could experience the love we've always longed for and were made to partake in. What else could we possibly want? No person on Earth can fill us with complete happiness or embrace us more perfectly than the Creator Himself. It is He who truly understands and appreciates all of the inner workings of our expertly crafted hearts, and it is He who wishes to heal our scars. If only we would let Him.