I knew that in an instant anyone might die or be transformed forever, and so I vowed always, always to tell others when I loved them. Perhaps this was what Jesus meant by the kingdom of God being at hand--the only opportunity for connection was now. I wrote Christmas cards in a fervor of adolescent honesty, even confessing to Mr. Polliche, my bearded, poetry-loving English teacher, how much he meant to me. I promised myself I'd always put words to my feelings, and, no matter how sentimental it felt, I would never be ashamed. Love, I decided, exists in the present and should be shared recklessly.
~ from Swinging on the Garden Gate: A Spiritual Memoir by Elizabeth Andrew
~ from Swinging on the Garden Gate: A Spiritual Memoir by Elizabeth Andrew
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