Here I am with Rio, my "grand-dog." She is a sweet one—so smart, so fun, so affectionate, so entertaining. She is a "good and perfect gift" from God (James 1:17). I love her, and that is dangerous and good, for in that "love" my heart stays soft, God-like and . . . vulnerable.
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. —C.S. Lewis
There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. We love because he first loved us. (1 John 4:18-19 ESV)
To love means to open ourselves to suffering. Shall we shut our doors to love, then and ‘be safe’? —Elisabeth Elliot
My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (John 15:12-13, NIV)