A Picture of a Room/A Picture of a Heart

This week I was thinking about things to write about, and I asked God if there was anything worth writing about.  He brought me back to a conversation that I had with a friend that I never completed.  I wanted to say much more, but sometimes I just stop because I do not want to be the guy that rambles or says more than I have to.  I know that by my words I am acquitted or condemned, so I try to be as purposeful as possible.  In this case, saying more would have killed the tone of the conversation because the illustration was not complete in my mind.

A friend lost someone close, and I told them that it is okay to be dealing with it and that people heal at different paces.  No matter how long someone is in your life, they hold a place in your heart and that is okay to take your time to heal.  I told them not to feel guilty about the memories since they are allowed to happen, it is only when a memory stops someone’s progress that it is dangerous.   

As I was reliving this conversation, God reminded me of a picture of an empty room.  The room was painted a light pink color, and it was obviously lived in because there were nicks on the hard wood floor and walls, there were hash marks on the doorway, and the room felt like it was filled with memories.

What I believe God was reminding me of was that my heart is like a house.  People will come in and out of my life and I allow them to live there.  I only have so many rooms, but in each of them it is filled with friends, family, loved ones, jobs, ministries, etc.  Through my life, they come and spend time in my heart.

During that time, I will have a lot of great memories and I must cherish those and let them characterize those times of my life.  I must, however, learn to let go when it is time to let go so that other memories can happen with others that will move into the room.  If I try to force the person to stay in the room, it will hurt everyone.

Because I remember those positive memories, I must do my best not to force the new person to be like the last person or make them live up to expectations.  I must create new memories with each person in the room and allow them to be themselves unhindered by the history of the room.  Sometimes this means repainting and redecorating the room, but sometimes accommodations must be made.  Each person is unique, and they deserve to be treated as such.

Finally, I need to let people into that room, especially if it has been empty for a while.  If I try to close it off or keep it as a shrine to someone who has left, bad things will happen.  Whether it is decay, infestation, or smell, a room will not last if it is not used for its intended purpose…. To be lived in.  In the same way, if a heart is not occupied, it will go to waste.  This is why I have to let people into my heart.

So what I feel like someone needs to hear today is that it is okay to be sad that a room was left empty by someone or something.  You might want them to come back, and they might, but do not be afraid to let someone or something else move in.   Whether it’s a job, a person, a child, or a spouse, it can be scary because you never know what the new person will do in the room.  But if you never let them in, you will never know.  Remember, if they love you and care about you, they will take care of the room and do their best to fix it when they mess up it up.  Those are the right people and things to let into your heart.

In conclusion, when the nicks appear on the floor and the wall, deal with it and see it for what it is... fixable.  When the hash marks appear on the doorway, celebrate the time spent together and growing with one another.  Cherish the memories, because you never know when they will move out.  Though it hurts to let someone move out, it is better than never inviting them to move in and never having the chance to create memories together.