Thursday, August 17, 2017

Change

Poetry is like cleaning a closet.

It lets me pull everything out and see what exactly is crammed into my soul

I can throw away the bad

Recycle the okay

And reorganize my thoughts and feelings into something manageable

Then once I've pulled the mess out and sorted through everything

I can replace it back into a neat tidy arrangement


That's how I wish it worked.
More often I pull everything out, look at it, and cram it back in largely untouched and even messier than before. 

God- he's the only deep cleaner. The only true housekeeper of my soul. The only one who can undo all the knots. The only one who can clean the stains on the shelves and carpet. The only one who can heck, tear it all down and rebuild a brand new closet. Brand new wood, brand new shelves, brand new carpet, brand new lights, and doors and doorknobs. Everything bright and clean and durable. 
And on the shelves books, but only the books I need. Instead of a pile of old clothes and string and necklaces and games and half folded jeans and boxes filled with who knows what. 
Well instead of all that junk that I thought I needed so much I just have what I need.

A couple of books, a pair of shoes, a coat to stay warm, a brightly colored box, and a beautiful gray rock.

Now looking at it, I wondered why I would ever want to go back to the old closet. The one filled with stains and messes and untied knots and boxes and boxes of rubbish. 

So here I am sitting in my old closet, wondering how in the world it will ever be like this brand new closet God showed me in a  picture. His promise of what his rennovations will look like once complete.

He's already started but, I keep stopping him and shoving back my old things onto the shelves. 

I guess I thought that would stop him. That somehow I, with my mistakes could prevent the creator of the universe from building something new. That somehow I am not doing enough to let him change me. I'm not praying enough, otherwise I would have changed already. Wouldn't I?

But tonight is late. And I am tired. And God has forgiven me. That's all I need. And heck, haha he created the world. Of course he is changing me. God's got this.