If My Heart Was A House
Below is a personal psalm written by one of our partners during their time in Redemption Groups.
If my heart was a house, and you took a look inside, I'm not even sure what you'd find.
Or maybe I'm just scared to take a real inventory.Maybe there's so much packed in and stored away that I don't even know where to look to find it and how to move it out.If my heart was a house, and you took a peek inside, past the front porch swing and exhausted soccer ball and cleats at the door.. Past the trophy case and crown on display in the window sill, and the certificates and achievements nailed to the door, you'd find a lot less glorious gadgets and a lot of hoarded humiliations.You'd see idols of best friends, people, and places that I worship and run to find comfort in - Only to be let down by their humanity instead of comforted by their mutual depravity.You'd see a portrait of a once-"perfect" family -Shattered and distorted, with layered, faded images of the various people who have been torn off, marked over, and taped back on too many times to count.You'd see to-do lists and sticky notes scattered across the walls with endless reminders of"don't forget to..."s and "can you please..."s, but not many thank you cards or invitations.You'd see parts of the American dream right next to every girl's nightmare.Pictures where I seem to have everything and jars where I seem to have nothing.One pair of filthy undergarments that I've tried to wash time and time again but always seem to come out still stained with his fingerprints.In the back room, down a long, dark hallway,You'd see a stack of seemingly empty bottles,Full of a stepdad's anger and my confusions.Bottles I've been collecting in bitterness to fill them up and seal them with my own emotions before throwing them back in the stack.
BUT in God's great mercy and loving kindness,
He added one thing that changed the entire value, meaning, and purpose of my house and its contents.Before you step in, before you look inside, you'd see something strange on the door frame.Painted before everything that comes in and out,On every side of its entrance and exit,Is the blood of an innocent and powerful Lamb named JesusWho changed everything about the status of this heart and its house.The stains across the entryway say more than anything you'll find when you step inside of it. It says that this house is purchased; it's owned, and it's under constant renovation.Because of what's painted on the door frame, everything behind it changes.Because of what's painted on my door frame, there's a much greater family portrait on the wall - A much clearer picture of a perfect Father - a joyful, faithful, and close one,And thousands of siblings to live alongside.The bottles have started to be thrown away,And the sticky notes that are scattered now hold reminders of what He did and not what I need to do.My clothes are finally clean, and the lights are on in all of the rooms -Exposed, free, and useful for any visitors who might come.Because of what's painted on my door frame, I can open the door and invite people in.