The Box and the Messengers

I like to build up walls

Sometimes brick by brick

Sometimes whole panels go up at once and if I’m feeling good maybe I get a window

And I build them from the inside so when I’m done I put the lid on top 

And I'm trapped inside the box

It’s dark inside the box

It’s quiet inside the box

It’s safe inside the box

And most importantly – nothing can hurt me when I’m inside the box

Life goes on outside and I can feel it throwing itself against the walls

But the walls are sturdy and they don't cave

Because I built them that way – I've had practice

They always told me that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger – but why take the risk?

And even though I know it’s not all out to get me – why take the risk?

This is when the voice of God calls out to me and he says:

“Sarah, what are you doing in that box?”

And I say “I don’t know.”  (But I know)

He says “Do you want to leave?”

And I say “Maybe…”  (But I don’t)

He says“Listen, I have a plan but it won’t work unless you leave the box.”

And I say “Can I do it later?”

But what I really mean is: “No. Go find someone else.”

So God sends a messenger to my window and we talk

And I see that there’s some good outside the box

The messenger tells me “You are loved for you who are.”

But I don’t think so.

The messenger says “I believe in you.”

But I don’t.

And the messenger says “You are good enough”

But I think “You’re wrong.”

Well God’s not done yet so he sends another messenger

This one doesn't wait for me at the window, no, this one kicks down the door, looks me in the eye, and drags me out of the box

I don’t want to go

I don’t like it

It hurts to be outside the box so I fight and I yell until my voice is gone and my body is weak and I drop to the ground defeated

But the messenger pulls me to my feet and pushes me forward again

Life keeps going by and it throws its demons at me

Sometimes they miss

Sometimes they graze my shoulder or my leg

And sometimes they hit me full-force in the chest and knock my down on my back

And I. Don’t. Want.  To.  Get. Up.

But God tells me “Get up.”

And I say “No.”  Because I am not strong, I am not brave, I am too tired and I am too broken for this.

But he tells me “Get up.”

And I say “I can’t.”

And I beg to go back to the box

Where it’s dark

Where it’s safe

Where nothing can hurt me

Because being outside the box isn't worth the pain

And it hurts so much 

But He is not done with me yet and he says:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

So I get up and he says “Keep going.”

I say “Yes.”  And this time I mean it.

So I start to walk but I’m stopped

I look down and there’s a chain around my leg

And I know exactly where it leads

I don’t even have to look but I do anyway

And I see the box looming over me on a mountain

It’s not safe anymore and now I’m chained to it. 

God says to me: “Do you want to never have to see the box again?”

I say “Can I ever go back?”

He says “No.”

And that shuts me up because I don’t know what I want. 

I try to speak but I trip over my own words

I can’t think of what else to say because I can’t say what I’m thinking

And as I stare up the mountain at the box the messengers come back

They don’t need to say a word

They take my hands and I know what to do

God says to me one more time “Sarah, do you want the box to be gone forever?”

And I say “Yes.”

And I mean it

There’s a deafening bang and I watch the box come crashing down with so much force that it knocks me down again

But I look, and the chain has come undone

So I get up and go on

Without looking back

For the first time, I am free