I was sitting in church, letting my thoughts wander more than I should have, when a picture popped into my head.
I imagined I was in a disaster zone of some kind. I couldn’t tell what had happened, maybe an earthquake or a tornado . . . I stood in what might have been a large room, though the roof was missing and the walls were partially crumbled.
All over the floor, people lay in piles like the debris scattered around me. So many people, there was no room to walk between them. They were injured, every one of them . . . mortally injured.
As an EMT, I was the only one on scene who could help them, but I hardly knew where to begin. A feeling of overwhelm snapped my heart in pieces; sorrow and sympathy for all these people brought tears to my eyes.
I knelt beside the nearest body and lay across it, pressing my heart to their heart. Such love as I have never known, never felt, never experienced, washed over me like a tsunami.
I was undone. I knew . . . I just knew that, if I could somehow transfer the beating of my heart into this person, or any person here, I would do it without another thought. And I felt that if I could give my own life to save just one of these dying bodies, I would give it happily.
The disaster zone faded back to the inside of a church. I stared at nothing, the memory of such happy sorrow piercing my heart.
A whisper touched my mind . . . voiceless, wordless even, but pressing upon me a thought more powerful than any earthquake:
“That is how much I love you.”