The Locked Box
Occasionally, it opens just a crack and a hurt from long ago spills out. It’s not something you need to give to God, at least in my case – I already have and I know He has it because I wouldn’t be standing here today if He didn’t.
It’s hard to explain, but if you have one, I think you’ll get this. It’s not luggage you are carrying on your back. It’s not heavy, and it’s not really a burden. I like having it there. While it may be painful at times, or sadden me, it’s dear to me and I embrace the hurt. It reminds me of what makes me – me.
There are many things that can cause the box to open. Sometimes it’s a word, a memory, or someone says, “you remind me so much of _____________”. Sometimes it is a taste or a smell that takes you back unexpectedly.
Many people hold keys to the locked box that I carry. Some don’t even know they have a key. Others know they have a key, but will not open that box – not even an inch. Sometimes… I wish they would. Other times I will be surprised by a key holder who I had no idea held a key.
The box for me holds items that when I think of them, they sometimes take my breath away. And other times, more often than not – they make me smile. They are mine, they are like no one elses and I thank God for what is in that box because they are also some of my dearest memories.
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