What are we so afraid of? Haven’t we experienced pain enough to know that it’s only temporary? Why are we so afraid of new doors opening and old doors closing? Is it out of fear that old doors closing on us are really doors of rejection slamming in our faces? The kind of rejection that causes our cheeks to appear as grapefruits. The kind of rejection that causes our hearts to ache and our bones to tremble? That causes us to go into hideout and build a painted facade of too many “I’m fines.” Are we really? The kind of rejection that silences our tears that are shed through the weeping hours of midnight. Where the only open arms and listening ears are the holy, yet soulful, underlying spirit of the Almighty God.
Why are we so afraid to admit to others that we’ve experienced loss? How would we really know the greatness of winning, if we never really knew what it meant to lose? Instead, we’d rather stay chained and embedded in old doors. Maybe they’ll open again, we think. But this time, with a new frame, a more girded threshold, a doorknob with a lock onto it this time, that can protect us, and never be broken into. We depend on others to be our doors, we rely on the world to sustain and sew hope into our hearts, not knowing that we are doors. Not knowing that we are sufficient, endless, and worthwhile gateways of opportunity screaming to be used to its greatest potential. Maybe things will change, someday.