Where are you stuck? 🔐
Beloveds,
I’ve been thinking about the places inside us that nobody can see.
The rooms we don’t talk about much.
The doors we closed years ago.
The things we tucked away because life kept moving and we had to keep moving with it.
Except sometimes…
part of us didn’t.
Part of us stayed right there.
At the disappointment.
At the goodbye.
At the diagnosis.
At the betrayal.
At the moment the plan changed.
At the day life divided itself into before and after.
And everybody around us may see that we’re still living.
Working.
Laughing.
Showing up.
Taking care of people.
Posting pictures.
Making plans.
Doing what needs to be done.
But somewhere inside us there may still be a locked door.
🔐
So this week at 6 PM, I want to spend some time there.
Not to kick the doors down.
Not to tell anybody to “move on.”
Not to turn five evenings into a self-improvement project.
I want us to look at the locks.
Where they came from.
What they protected.
What shame has done with them.
What “should” has done with them.
Who we’ve given keys to.
And what love might have to say about all of it.
Because I am beginning to believe something:
We cannot understand why we’re stuck if we refuse to honor why we stopped.
❤️
So that’s where we’re beginning.
Not:
Why haven’t you moved?
But:
What happened there?
Because sometimes we look at somebody who hasn’t moved and assume they won’t.
Sometimes we look at ourselves and do the same thing.
Why am I still here?
Why haven’t I gotten over this?
Why am I still afraid?
Why can’t I trust again?
Why haven’t I started over?
Why am I still thinking about something that happened years ago?
Why can’t I just move?
Maybe because something happened there.
❤️
Maybe somebody broke your trust.
Maybe somebody left.
Maybe somebody died.
Maybe the job disappeared.
Maybe the marriage ended.
Maybe your health changed.
Maybe your body changed.
Maybe the future you had already pictured disappeared so quickly that your heart is still trying to understand where it went.
Maybe you tried again and got hurt again.
Maybe you opened the door once and learned exactly why you wanted it locked.
🔐
We have to be careful about calling every closed door fear.
Some doors closed because something on the other side hurt.
Some walls were built because somebody needed somewhere to breathe.
Some locks were installed because, at the time, they were protection.
And this is something I’ve been sitting with:
Some prisons were originally shelters.
👀
Something can save you in one season and confine you in another.
“I won’t let anybody close” may have helped you survive betrayal.
“I don’t need anybody” may have helped when the people you needed didn’t show up.
“I don’t expect anything anymore” may have softened disappointment.
“I’ll handle it myself” may have been the only option you had.
So I’m not coming for your lock tonight.
I’m coming for you.
❤️
Because maybe before we ask whether a door needs opening, we ought to honor the person who needed to close it.
Maybe instead of:
What’s wrong with me?
we ask:
What happened to me?
And then, gently:
Is what protected me then still protecting me now?
👀
Those are different questions.
One carries shame.
The other carries curiosity.
And love needs curiosity.
Love doesn’t stomp up to somebody’s locked door demanding:
OPEN UP!
Love knocks.
Love listens.
Love can sit outside awhile.
Love doesn’t assume the lock is an insult.
Love understands that sometimes the person behind the door learned that opening one could hurt.
🪑❤️
And maybe you’re the person behind it.
Maybe everybody else thinks you ought to be further along.
Maybe you think you ought to be further along.
We’re going to talk about that little word should this week too.
But not tonight.
Tonight I only want you to notice where you are.
No judgment.
No deadline.
No measuring your healing against somebody else’s.
No pretending the lock isn’t there.
Just:
Here I am.
And maybe:
This is why.
❤️
For those who share my faith, I believe God can meet us there too.
Not only after the door opens.
Not only after we get unstuck.
Not only after we become brave.
Right there.
Behind the lock.
Because I have learned something about God through some very hard places:
He does not need me to find my way out before He can find His way to me.
❤️
So tonight, beloveds, I’m not asking you to move.
I’m asking you to notice.
Where are you stuck?
And instead of condemning yourself for still being there…
maybe sit beside yourself for a minute.
You may discover that the person you’ve been frustrated with isn’t refusing to move.
They may simply need somebody to understand why they stopped.
And maybe that somebody can finally be you.
🔐❤️
We’ll come back tomorrow.
I’m not leaving you behind the door.
loving me some you,
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
