This Broken Down House

I am sitting here alone in this broken down house.  This is a hard place to be.  I’ve spent a lot of time trying figure myself out but what I’m left with right now is just a big mess.  Give me a second to paint that picture.  I have a box that over my whole life i’ve put my stuff in.  All sorts of the most painful things I try to escape.  My defeats, my embarrassments, the words that tear me down, fights, losses, anger, failures.  I’ve pushed it all down like dark secrets that the light of day would have healed but I am too scared or too proud to let it out.  That box is getting old now.  The sides are bursting.  The cardboard has worn thin and what started as tiny tears easily covered with tape have torn open and exposed the contents.

So I’ve taken everything out of that box and I’m sitting here with it all around me.  Let me be quite clear – I’m not okay.  Those pains are taunting me and now as I’m sitting here watching my marriage crumble before me and my family ripped apart, I hurt.  I’m being loud about that because I don’t want to push it down and let it kill me anymore.  I want to heal.  This home doesn’t have to stay broken.  It won’t ever look the same as it once did but it doesn’t have to look like this.  I get the unique opportunity to start over and do it different.


~ by Stephen Baker on January 27, 2011.

2 Responses to “This Broken Down House”

  1. My prayers are for you and your family brother. I hope to see you soon. Got some free time?

  2. Dark, dark times. Sigh.

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