The torn heart of the King...

I noticed that there was a card sitting on the ground at my bus stop.

It wasn't a greeting card. It was a playing card.

It was sitting face-up, ripped in three places, only loosely held together.


I picked it up. I got on the next bus, carrying in my hand: the King of Hearts, torn apart.

I put it in my pocket. Later, told my Dad about it.

We began working on some lyrics to a song.

Something Dylan-like, with a harmonica. It would go something like this:

"I found the king of hearts, torn apart.

There just ain't a way of explainin' to you how I came to carry,
the king of hearts, torn apart.

Down these familiar streets, and
following the mutters of unclaimed fame,
coins slipping from my fingers
tired of it all being the same...

My hand has touched the king of hearts, torn apart...
And we go rambling
past the blue mountains
under the bright orange sky

A sun is rising
And he carries me through
the first light of a new day.

There just ain't a way of explainin' to you
how I came to carry
the king of hearts,
torn apart..."

A few weeks later, on my walk home from work I found another card face down on the pavement. The design was the same, but it was whole.

I picked it up. I turned it over. It was the King of Hearts, completely whole.

Since then, I have been thinking about what would cause the heart of a King to become torn. And what would cause the tears in that heart to become whole.

In fifteen days, I will move to a land that is ruled by a King. And I am thinking about these things.

Trust in him at all times...pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. ~ Ps. 62:8