Open House

You ever go to church and have one of those moments when the preacher is talking and then you look around like, “Who told Pastor my business?”

I definitely had one of those moments yesterday. 

For the past week and a half or so, I’ve been struggling with letting go.

Letting go of unhealthy or pointless relationships (some of them that I have been holding on to for years). 

“When you get ready for your blessings to manifest, there will be certain people in life that you will have to let go of because not everyone that is praying for you is ‘FOR’ you.” –Pastor Rickie G. Rush

Ok, God. I get it. Let go.

Yesterday I felt like God opened my eyes to the truth and I was able to truly see ME for the first time in a long time and it felt amazing (a co-worker of mine even said I was “glowing” today 🙂 )

I’m nowhere near perfect and I know I will never be, but I am working towards becoming a better model of myself. 

I can name a handful of people that I’ve spoken to recently that have talked about self-improvement but I’ve only seen everyone doing the same things. 

I don’t say this to put anyone else down. I say this because I realize I’ve done the same thing and that’s not what I want anymore. 

I’ve made mistakes and reacted to certain situations poorly, but I am slowly finding my way back to poetry, service to people, and God. Those are my passions and where my heart is.

I’m tired of being the girl who masks hurt or whose actions are based upon seeking back attention lost by old friends.

No one should have to fight to keep someone in their life.

Based on my reflection of my current self, I wrote a poem about, in my opinion, what it is like to let someone in and have them leave. 

I hesitate to open up to people, which, unfortunately, causes me to struggle when I’m trying to move past them, as well. 

Open House

They knock

Knuckles tapping ever so slightly on my front door

I don’t move. I don’t flinch.

I sit there

Staring at the white-washed wood.

They beg to come in.

I still say no. I still refuse to let someone in the privacy of my home.

Faint whispers of “I love you” transcend through the door.

I ignore them at first, but then it starts to taunt me.

How could I not let them in?

How could I be so sheltered with all four locks in place while they stand there begging for entrance into my privacy?

Faces planted against the door now.

“Let me in.”

I arise and begin unlocking the door.

One.

“I’ll…”

 Two.

“…love…”

 Three.

“…you…”

 Four.

“…always.”

My hand trembles and sweats too much before I can reach the knob

They take their own initiative and force the door open,

Eager and excited to be in the presence of my sacred belongings.

They look around,

Settling in for a moment.

I sit back down.

Shifting eyes between my houseguest and the door

Waiting to see if anyone else tries to enter.

As time passes, I fall asleep in their embrace

Feeling levels of security greater than those four locks.

I awake.

Minutes have passed.

Minutes within hours, but minutes nonetheless.

Where is my stuff?

They begged for entry.

I let them in.

And I was robbed.

Now victim to a crime from my own houseguest

I have been made to lose comfort in my own home.

My mirrors are gone.

I cannot truly see myself.

My funny movies are gone.

I cannot laugh or smile.

My favorite music is missing.

I cannot dance for joy.

My inspirational books have been taken.

I can no longer speak positivity.

They begged for entry.

I let them in.

And I was robbed.

My landlord comes by.

No knocking necessary.

HE has a key.

HE reminds me of my insurance.

HE replaces each lock.

As the door shuts behind Him,

I secure my remaining belongings again

Locking the new locks and

Forgiving the betrayal of the previous four.

One. 

“This…”

 Two.

“…too…”

 Three.

“…shall…”

 Four.

“…pass.”

-Shelby L.

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