My Heart Is Troubled

My heart is troubled, and why shouldn’t it be?
It’s a heart that feels deeply, with longing for right and good.
And when, what my heart sees, is madness and malady.
Should not my heart be troubled?

Yes, I desire.
And some would suggest that desire alone is the ill.
And, I suppose, desire, without restraint, is surely an ill.
A desire without hope, without wisdom, is death.

But desire is energy.
The energy to see something better than what presents itself.
The energy to open wide my eyes to see a world in sorrow.
The energy to direct my ears to the cries of a child in distress.

And, so I’m troubled.
And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Because a troubled heart can sense and smell the holy.
A troubled heart knows the weight of the cross.