When a Heart Breaks

"When a heart breaks, no it don't break even," curious lyrics from The Script band and their song "Breakeven." A poppy little Top-100 tune that had me shaking my head as I was rolling down the highway musing the lopsided thinking about broken hearts. A broken heart is—a broken heart. I just don't see it in an arena for competition. See this is what happens when you put me in a car, by myself, and alone with my thoughts!

As many times as my heart has been or felt broken, never have I thought that my pain was greater than another's. How can you measure that? We really can only know how we feel, the seismic level of our own brokenness and that can't be measured against another—we aren't them. It's an ego-mind ploy to seek extra sympathy or play the blame game. I don't need to go very deep here. When a heart breaks, it breaks. In small pieces, big chunks or wide open. It doesn't really matter, it's what comes out of the shatter, what you do with it in the aftermath. A broken heart is, not to be held up as a ticking measure of who hurts more, but more of an opportunity to pick up the pieces and mend them together with loving kindness.

The ability to love again—therein lies something to measure.