July 5, 2012 § Leave a comment

Call it the hormones, but introspective is the mood de jour and it seeks total consumption.

It is everything in me not to load the song below, put it on repeat, and drive to the ocean.  Dance in the sand and wail to an Almighty God.  Just to drive home, crawl into bed as the sun rises, and sleep ’til I feel like waking.
Responsibilities.  They keep me grounded.

I say all the time that the heart is a house.  Just about everyone is allowed inside the fence and most make it up onto the screened-in front porch.  The ones you like well enough are entertained in the living room and dining room for early evening dinners and a glass of iced tea.

But, the eat-in kitchen.  That is where the real life happens.  It’s where Jesus resides as I scrub dishes ’til my knuckles threaten blood and I can no longer see straight because of the tears.  The wildest laughter happens in here wearing my pajamas and eating late night Peanut Butter Crunch.  (Don’t tell me it’s not the best Cap’n Crunch.  I’ll know you’re lying.)
The eat-in kitchen is the most intimate chamber of my heart.  Not everyone gets to waltz through the double-hinged door and only the rarest will waltz with me across the tile.

And, hanging all over the walls of the home that is my heart are pictures.  Captured stills of dreams and hopes and wishes of things to come.  Snapshots of what has been and events that have shaped me up to now.  Shattered frames over moments that were less than kind and some turned over as I can hardly think of them, much less look at them.

Some have disappeared completely.  Mostly those of what might have been.  We get these photos and hang them on the walls of our heart.  And we glance at them longingly, smiling at things that have not yet happened, investing ourselves in these balloons of imagination that are so quickly tied to heartstrings.

Those future photos, however, are dangerous.  If you’re not careful, you’ll get so wrapped up in them you’ll not be ready for real life when it comes for you.  It is painful and hard and cruel, but sometimes…sometimes, you have to let a good picture die.

It’s okay.
He’ll stand with you when life comes for you.
Go and dine with him in the kitchen.

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