It’s been hard to miss the news about the death of 28-year-old actor Heath Ledger, whose body was discovered in his New York apartment on Tuesday. His death (probably an accidental overdose) was a shock to many. He lived outside of Hollywood, avoided media attention and wasn’t known for partying or fast living—definitely not the kind of life that leads to an early death.

For some reason, Ledger’s death left me unusually distracted and emotional. While I really enjoyed some of Ledger’s work, I’m not what you would call a fan. Until Tuesday, I didn’t even know he was in Monster’s Ball or I’m Not There. I was vaguely aware that he had a child with actress Michelle Williams, but I wasn’t aware that the two had split last fall. Since his death, however, I’ve learned more about Ledger and his life. Those that encountered him say he was friendly, polite and thoughtful. I found out that he was also a devoted father and beloved son. I also learned that he struggled with depression, anxiety and his own talent. As the details of Ledger’s life began to fill in, I couldn’t help checking the news more often than usual. I teared up when I heard his father talk about him and especially when I saw the pictures of Ledger with his little girl on his shoulders.

As I’ve mulled over why Ledger’s death has so moved me, I think learning about his life is a big part of it. And that underscores for me the power of individual stories. Learning someone’s story has had powerful effects in my own life. It was reading the stories about the lives of individual people that drew my compassion and advocacy to the overwhelming suffering in Uganda and Sudan. And meeting and hearing the stories of undocumented immigrants in South Texas is what cemented my compassion for these folks and my advocacy for immigration reform.

But this also plays into our as-we-go lives and those we rub shoulders with each day. Everyone has a story, and often times knowing that story helps us understand and see each other as we are: people who struggle to love and be loved, to deal with our woundedness and brokenness. And that often touches our own woundedness and brokenness, which gives us a context in which to relate to them. We don’t have to agree with them, their choices or opinions. But learning their stories does enable us to love them with the kind of Love we are Loved with—by a God who knows our story and works to invite us into the True Story, a Love Story. For it is as we love others that we invite them into that Story and God’s Love—and that is what our lives are all about.

Ultimately, I suppose all this makes me remember how much God loves each of us. I love how William Young puts this in The Shack. In the novel, God continually tells the main character, “I am especially fond of you.” Affectingly, God uses the phrase every time he references another person as well. This goes a long way in expanding and deepening my understanding of God’s motivations for working to remake and bring Life to this broken world, which includes each and every one of us: “For God so loved the world . . .” (John 3:16). And that kind of love is too much to keep to ourselves. In fact, if we really get that love, it will spill out on the world around us.

I just read again Paul’s urging to followers of Jesus in Philippi to “not only love much but well” (1:9 Message). He describes love as an active, persistent, focused action that ends up “making Jesus Christ attractive to all, getting everyone involved in the glory and praise of God” (11). That’s the kind of love I eventually get to in all this. Ledger will eventually fade from the news and the thoughts of most of us who did not know him, but for his family, friends and little girl, his life and death will remain a large part of their lives. That is how it is with many of us—and many of those we rub shoulders with every day. Ledger’s death calls me to remember this, to pay attention, listen to their stories, consider the worlds they’ve lost and especially to love them. That is the love that I have received. That is the love I want to give.

Note: This post is an abbreviated version of one I wrote on my blog earlier this week.