Once upon a time this past November I asked God if he would make my heart harder.

And then I took it back.

You see, I was thinking about how much it hurt when I lost my Little Boy and Mittens. I didn’t want to feel that hurt again.

I immediately realized that my heart feels things deeply and that’s okay.

I feel joy and love and sadness and loss deeply.

And that is okay.

It feels weird to say that I am okay with being hurt more easily than some others might be.

It feels weird to say that I am okay with having a thin skin, so to speak.

This thin skin is really just a soft heart.

But, you know what, my soft heart gives me a great capacity for compassion.

My soft heart gives me a great capacity for love.

Somehow, animals and people just seem to know.

Which is why animals befriend me when they won’t befriend just anyone.

Dogs who don’t typically go to humans other than their own will come say hi to me.

Cats who are typically standoffish aren’t generally standoffish with me.

Random humans that I’ve only just met like to tell me all about themselves.

I cry when my friends experience loss.

I cry during the sad parts of movies and TV shows.

Other people cry and I cry. “I’m a sympathetic crier, man!”

When one of my friends celebrates a victory, I’m right there with a high five or a fist bump.

You know I’m going to be there celebrating with one of my girls when she has a baby she’s been praying for. And you know I will have been praying for that baby, too.

I am praying for all of my girls out there who want babies and can’t have them for some reason, too. And I’m crying with them.

There’s this verse in the book of Romans, chapter 12 verse 15: “Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.”

It’s one of my verses these days.

No, the pain isn’t going to stop. I will still be hurt.

But if I shut out the pain, I shut out the joy.

And joy–well, joy is a most wonderful experience and I do not want to shut out joy.

So I am not going to shut out pain.