Passion.

East Belfast (copyright: Pacemaker)

One of my favorite words in the English language is Passion.
You've heard me say it before.  It's the stuff that burns a fire in a someone's heart and keeps them going.  I believe it is what makes life worth living.

But passion by itself is futile. It's when you mix that magical word with things like hatred, revenge, and hurt that it transforms into something so frightening.  When I turn on the radio and hear the news, both local and international, I hear minute-by-minute what passion is doing, the trouble it is causing.

It's so hard for me to understand how the same word that can make babies, open eccentric budding businesses, bring two lovers into an intense affair, create family units filled with unconditional love and acceptance, fill an artist with creative inspiration, pull a student overseas to study, and drive a young man to begin outreach to the homeless in his city - that SAME THING can wage wars on entire civilizations.
It can make us hate our neighbor.
It can drive us to disregard the children and former friends we are hurting.
It can hurt a society so badly that it seems irreparable.

Luckily one of my other favorite words is Hope.

Recent news in Northern Ireland: only one tiny place on this planet recently affected by passion.