it’s so true, but the rhyming and pictures make it an easier pill to swallow for some :)
this is love series by maggie hurley.
(vasopressin, phenethylamine, serotonin, dopamine, oxytocin).
And I am okay with things making me cry a bit:
Children’s impressions of what love is: http://thebestadvicesofar.wordpress.com/2011/07/19/simple-love/
The story of a woman whose husband was killed on 9/11: http://storycorps.org/listen/stories/beverly-eckert/
The story of a beautiful old elephant (they never forget): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXKxgLvIS6Y&feature=player_embedded
Probably my favorite StoryCorps story: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNfvuJr9164
The sweetest thing. Do yourself a favor and watch this. It has restorative powers.
Shirley, a 52 year-old disabled former circus elephant is reunited with Jenny 20 years after Shirley had been sold by the circus that owned them both.
All of the things are in my eyes. All of the things, ever.
Kleenex. Now. I cried like a woman.
So beautiful. So many tears. This is what I get for staying up till 2am and then watching this video.
Dear Comp 15,
You are really something. You’ve shown me the versatility of linked lists and the beauty of binary trees, not to mention the simple pleasure of cutting off constants for Big-O notation. However, I’m feeling a little dampened by our relationship these days. You’ve been pretty needy; I mean, a dozen hours in a week for one project is a bit much, don’t you think? And you’ve been messing with my mind the way you manipulate me. One day you’re tempting me with your elegant recursion algorithms and the next day you’re turning me into your slave. But I keep going back, keep putting my hand in your fire. And where has it gotten me? Here at your feet with shot expectations, begging for small victories, celebrating the mere completion of a monstrous code that I am too afraid to compile. Oh, to love a torturer. Back to coding (due at midnight).
forever for the semester,
because I don’t have a picture of Buddy handy. NONE of the dogs that came up look anything like Buddy, and all were less than half as cute. I’m serious, I’m not biased or anything.
I wanted to show you what Buddy looks like because he’s pretty irresistible. He has more of a baby-face than most chihuahuas (which I think are generally pretty ugly) and I know my brain is programmed to go “AWWW” when I see anything with big eyes, a big forehead, and a small nose. Buddy also loves to give kisses. He is one of the most affectionate dogs I have ever met. He follows me all over the house and whimpers like a human baby when I don’t pick him up. Maybe I am drawn to him because he makes me feel wanted and needed.
Today I discovered a couple sores on Buddy’s paws that looked pretty raw. He had been licking them, probably because his skin was irritated from allergies or something. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, but it is heartbreaking to see him sit there licking his paws, making the sores more red and raw than they were to begin with. At first I snapped at him, not too loud, to get him to stop. He looked up at me with those big brown eyes, only for a second, then resumed his licking. I said his name pretty sharply a couple more times, and every time he would just keep licking. The only thing that would make him stop was if I picked him up and petted the scruff around his neck and ears and let him lick my face and gnaw on my fingers (it’s a nervous habit he has, he clamps onto my fingers whenever I get home, as if he thinks that will keep me from leaving again). I knew that the only way to heal his sores was to leave them alone to dry out and turn into a scab, but Buddy doesn’t know that. He can’t understand or imagine anything beyond the momentary relief of cooling his sores with his tongue. He doesn’t understand the concept of going through a little pain now in order to fully heal later. Maybe you see where this is going…
I’ve been learning about God in all sorts of ways lately (what’s new?). I realized that I am about as blind to the big picture as Buddy is to the distant future. I think Jesus is beautiful because he meets me where I am at, he validates my pain and impatience and small-picture understanding of the world because he has been there too. He has been a small-picture being; it’s like me sitting and letting Buddy gnaw on my finger. He probably shouldn’t be doing it his whole life, it’s kind of a baby thing to do, and I certainly would rather be reading or chatting with someone. But because I love him, I sit with him for as long as it takes to get him to stop hurting himself.
I was reading some stories in the Bible about how God’s people have always done things like have orgies and worship golden calves because they want love that is tangible and immediate, but the things they turn to end up hurting them and letting them down in the end. God speaks through prophets like Isaiah and Hosea and lots of others to say that he pities his chosen and loved people because they can’t see what he sees: the big picture. And I am beginning to understand this, because I pity Buddy in much the same way.
— Donald Miller in Searching for God Knows What
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His favor is for life;
Weeping may endure for a night,
But joy comes in the morning.
Now in my prosperity I said,
“I shall never be moved.”