Wednesday, November 16, 2011

The Room That Is Not Yet Done

I take a mental tour of my house.  I pass the public areas -- the living room, kitchen, the dining area -- and they look presentable, pretty even.  I am satisfied.

I trek upstairs and while things look a bit more lived in up here, they are still pleasant, comfortable, clean, and not pretentious.  But if I travel around the curve that leads from the master bedroom, I enter into chaos.  I enter into The Room That Is Not Yet Done.

It is the place where household management, art, and my husband's music collide and the collision is not pretty.  Someday, we will have enough money to turn the room into what we want, and because that day is not today, I choose to ignore it.  I ignore the cluttered, confused room that is not suitable for eyes other than mine.

As I finish up my mental tour, God asks me to tour the confines of my heart.  He leads me by the hand and we travel through all those public places, the rooms where people regularly reside and enter in with welcome.  We travel into the rooms where I only let in a few trusted people, but I feel as though God is satisfied with the state of these dwelling places.  And then, then, we get to The Room That Is Not Yet Done.

We stand outside the door, the door that is covered in "caution" tape, whose handle is hot to the touch, whose lock is big and to which I only hold the key.  And He asks me the unthinkable.

Will you let me into this space, this Room That Is Not Yet Done?

And I stand there silently, I shake my head, a defiant "No!" for this is the uncomfortable place where chaos and confusion run rampant and I like to think that my life is order and chaos and peace.

He doesn't open the door, but somehow, He shows me what I look like when I operate inside this room, this Room That Is Not Yet Done, and I see myself small and cowering in a corner, the darkness threatening to overcome me.  I am tied up in rope, but there is no one else in the room that is my captor, no one tightening the noose.  But, oh yes, there is myself.  I am the one who keeps the ropes tight out of self-protection, out of fear, out of comfort because this pain is known.
photo source
And as I watch this little girl in the chaos, as I feel her heart yearning for freedom, I see that she does not know how to get out.  And He says, There is only one way.  You must let me cut the rope.  Imagine the freedom.

But somehow, all I can imagine is the pain that will come with the unleashing, my sore arms so taught, so tight, so unused to being able to bend and flex and lengthen.  I think of my tight runner's body before I knew yoga.  I think of the handcuffs around the accused and how he rubs his wrists after the release.  There is still pain, but it is the pain of the body stretching for freedom.   A pain born out of yearning and reaching.  Quite different from the pain of being encased in rope.

And so the question still hangs in the air.  Will you let me into this space, this Room That Is Not Yet Done?  Will you let Me cut the rope that binds you?  Will you let me unwind you, carry you through this pain of release?  Will you trust me to bring wholeness to your heart?

I see that small girl rise.  I see the glint of the scissors raised.  I see a small hand reaching for the door.  I breathe in and slowly turn the handle.

Will you turn the handle, too?
photo source
Linking with the lovely Emily at Imperfect Prose and Shanda at Pause on the Path.


  1. Wow! This one spoke to me. It was not long ago, I was having this same fight with God when it came to the part of my heart that was forever hurt from all the things that happened, didn't happened, words that were said and weren't said. I am finally submitting to God, letting him heal that part of my heart.

    It is very hard to trust for God to care for the one part of your heart that you have let no one touch except you.

  2. lovely... it is so true that we go about cleaning up areas and we feel content about these.... and then there are the clutter corners we ignore because we just can't deal with them right now....
    in our homes and in our lives/hearts.

    I thank God he always has His siccors ready and gives us a glimpse of the beauty to come so we are... willing to trust Him

    as we hear the testimony of others set free, it gives us courage to come along
    Thank you for your great post!

  3. Jen, when I read your words, I always feel like you are writing from my heart. So beautiful! I'm learning to allow God into every room of my heart. I am being set free ~ Amen!

  4. so beautiful, and so good to think on. thank you.

  5. just meandering through others' thoughts this week. this was beautifully put, jen. and thought-provoking. so many places i hold tight to. keep the doors closed on. but oh, how i keep seeking freedom. complete surrender.
    thanks, as always, for your sharing.

  6. mmm...there are those places...that we cling to as if they will keep us painful it is letting the doors open, letting them go...afraid...but when we do...

  7. You've got me thinking, Jen...which door do I need to unlock?...

  8. I've missed stopping by but so enjoyed this post. You continue to amaze me with your depth, what a gift! Blessings to you my friend!

  9. I can so relate to this. I see the state of my house as the state of my heart. Right now it is still a bit cluttered, but I am ok with it. Each day I get something new done and clear out a little more of what I no longer need. I give away to those who can use what is just taking up space in my world. It is helping a little more light into my house and heart each day. Thanks for sharing.

  10. We all have so many layers and closed doors and hidden parts. We are deep calling out to deep. Thankfully we are answered.

  11. No room is ever "done." I think of one room in my house that has a treadmill and an easel. I hardly ever step on the treadmill or sit at the easel. It is a small room, bright with two windows. I wouldn't call it finished. Maybe it would be if I went there and let fulfill its purpose.

    Every dark room is waiting for its purpose to revealed. It takes courage to go there---and trust. Sometimes it takes a willingness to feel the pain of breaking free. Thanks for reminding me of this truth.

  12. Oh Jen... FYI... There really isn't any rooms done-done in life... God is a God who can make even the cleanest well dressed rooms even just relax and let Him into it all.

  13. i love how you let him lead, friend. a beautiful parallel. xo

  14. Incredible word picture.

    I've been walking free for almost 10 years now, from the ropes that bound me. And yes, the releasing was deeply, deeply painful and fear-filled.

    And yet. The thing I feared so much, did not come to pass. The rope burns began to fade, my limbs began to stretch & strengthen. Scars remained, to remind me of His Mercy, and my depravity.

    And I walk free....

  15. I let someone enter That Room only a month ago. I was surprised that I'd do that. And I was surprised about what was hidden in That Room.
    And I'm glad I did that.

  16. I need to pray for God to show me if there is a door I need to open. Thank you for the reminder.


Don't go yet! Leave me a note with your thoughts.