The Locked Door

My door was always locked. I never once showed a person what lay behind it. It would be too revealing of myself, of my secrets and of my life. People often thought me distant and shy. But all I really was was afraid of showing my weaknesses. It would give others a foothold over me. So for all my life, the door was locked. Nobody would ever be able to unlock it. No one would ever see what lay beyond.

I took beating after beating, but, stubbornly, I refused to open the door. I knew that if it was to be opened, my life's secrets would be shattered.

Then He came. He came into my life and changed it forever. At first, I was adamant. No one ought to be looking in on me. But He looked into my eyes, and in that instant, everything was obliterated. Everything except Him, me and the indestructible evidence of my existence. He had gotten past the locked door. All my life poured out in a flurry; everything both good and bad. In that one moment, He took away my cross, the cross that had become too heavy to bear.

I broke down and wept. I was now vulnerable. The barrier I had built over the years was destroyed. Yet I felt secure – I had never felt so secure - when He took my hand and smiled at me. And said, "I am with you."

Fin~ (30th July 2003)

Author's note: I wrote this at like 10.30 p.m. when I was ready for bedtime and all. So if my writing appears to be rather lousy, please forgive me. I just couldn't let the idea go, for with sleep comes forgetting. And with the morning comes the loss of an idea. So… yes.