The Door of My Heart

What does the door of your heart look like?  I mean what is it made of?  Is it wood?  Is it more like a half door where the top swings open?  Is it ornate or plain?  Is it locked or is it more like a screen door that everyone can see in?  I think it can change with the different seasons of our lives, don't you?  Sometimes the door of my heart is locked up tighter than a drum and at other times the screen door is left wide open to allow the cool breezes to waft in freely.  Some days I see people I know from church or work and my heart is open and wants to talk and catch up, see how they're doing when I pass them in the grocery store aisle and other times I find myself pretending like I didn't see them and running into the next aisle to avoid them at all costs, my heart is tired, worn out, introspective and closed to any visitors.  Sometimes I don't feel too good about myself and all I want to do is hide- maybe it's my bad hair day or I am in a hurry to get home to get dinner on the table or maybe I am feeling unloved or ashamed of who I am...there can be so many different reasons, all crowding in at once with no real understanding of what is going on in my heart. 

The heart is a curious thing...so many mysteries waiting to be understood by myself and others.  Sometimes my heart scares me, what's lurking there that even I don't really understand, let alone beginning to try to explain it to another heart, another soul.  The things of the heart go deep, an unexplored trail with new sights around the next bend, sometimes there is a grand vista awaiting with mountain wildflowers and sometimes there are just weeds waiting to be pulled.  Sometimes they are predictable, a lot like so many other human hearts, common to each one of us.  Sometimes there is such inexplicable sadness and shame all covered up by pretense, supposed self-confidence, and responsibility.  Sometimes there is a yearning to just forget it all and fly free- not encumbered by the weights of what we have to do, but rather a freedom to feel like a child again, making angels in the snow, alighting on a tree singing like a bird, moving wherever the wind may take us...

The door of my heart changes with the seasons of my soul...who will I open my door to?  When will I open the door of my heart?  Will I allow my heart to dream, to roam, to run free?