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A Place Suffering Can't Touch

I glanced at my fridge and saw a magnet of Como, Italy--one of those places I never thought I'd see. Then my mind went to the many times we scroll through the screen of our smart phones, and in the blink of an eye, visit the Northern Lights, the streets of Paris, the exotic mountains of Machu Pichu, and so many wonders of the world we all seem to be drawn to. It's almost like we can feel them through our fingers.

And yet, there's not a place in the world that suffering hasn't touched.

Province of Como and Vale D'Aosta, Italy

As the streets of Italy--and who would think, of the whole world--lie empty, and we are quarantined at home--many of us longing for connection, for a touch, for a face-to-face conversation--I think of our human ability to imagine and long for a place of utter bliss, where joy is never interrupted.

It's quite an amazing ability, come to think of it, given the fact that none of us has ever experienced a reality free of pain. But somewhere deep down, when we witness the sheer power and beauty of mountains, the fragility and resilience of flowers, and our own human greatness and simultaneous smallness, we long for this unknown place that suffering can't erase and that has somehow touched our hearts.

It has touched us every time we experience the giggles of a child, the breathtaking views of the ever-changing sunset, the melodies that bring us to tears without us knowing why, the daydreaming of a world imprinted in our longing.

In that moment, we realize our hearts have been touched by Hope.

Let that touch overwhelm you today. Hope is the fuel of resilience.

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