OPEN THE DOOR, LORD

[Brenda Pike]

OPEN THE DOOR, LORD


Late this September afternoon, I gaze out my window watching the gloomy day past with only a soft breeze blowing through the trees. I ponder how I’ve reached this point in life—a point of old age, loneliness and depression.
I always imagined myself as being a free spirit. I was optimistic; life was happy and filled with joy. I would not have thought it would someday be completely devoid of pleasure.
But I now realize, once a mountain starts to crumble, little by little, year by year it slides into just a small mound of dust. You don’t always notice the decline until one day you’re looking down at the mountain instead of up. Life has a way of touching all of us in this manner, I believe. We’re never ready for the decline of life with family and friends long in the grave.
I fear too many mountains in my life were constantly erupting like volcanoes, turning me into nothing more than a small mound of dust no one noticed. Too many times, I was left running for my life with no place to hide, or feel safe?
I tried to remain strong trying always to fix trauma in my life—believing time would heal all wounds. But that didn’t happen for me…
Now I know I was only hiding behind closed doors I could not escape. Try as hard as I might, I could not find the open door.
Ashes are what remain of me.
Only the Lord can open that door now, and give me eternally rest.


Brenda Clark Pike
2015