He was numb. He was tired. He was still. Yet, there was a storm, an invisible storm -- of every evil, lie, pain, hurt and bitter thought swirling together into a tornado. His eyes were empty and cold, but under those eyes -- the storm. The storm had been awakened by this heartbreak of rejection and failure. He mechanically stood and walked down the stairs toward the kitchen. What am I doing? The thought of food makes me sick. He turned and saw the door. The door, his mind blocked the storm for enough time to remember a place. It was a summer evening, when there were fireflies and lemonade. His dad had walked in late and seemed troubled, yet resolute. All he could remember was being hastily put to bed, his dad tucking him in with extra care and hesitancy. The next morning dad was gone. The boy had heard the door close the night before. In the weeks, months, and years that followed, winds of pain, lies and bitterness blew into his heart. He captured the winds and held tightly to them. No one told him the winds lied. It’s my fault, I messed up, something is wrong with me, everyone will hurt me, I’ll never trust again. When the winds were strongest, he would crawl behind the clothes rack in his closet. It was dark and safe. He was alone, the door locked everyone but him and silence out. The silence heard his cries and sobs. The silence wasn’t afraid of the wind like everyone else in his life was. The silence did not comfort, but it did not fear or judge the winds. He began to feel that the winds had not ever been from the outside, but were from him. I’m sorry daddy, I’m sorry it was my fault…. As the years passed, a greater evil occurred. He became cold and numb and forgot about the pain. He felt nothing. He didn’t lose his emotions, but he lost his relational connection. I had trusted and ruined everything…. Mom never talked to him about him leaving. She remained silent on the subject, instead, she obsessed about his education, little league, and social life.
Now here he was. A man. Staring at the door. The silence would listen, the winds had been silent for so many years, nothing could rouse them, they were buried so deep in his being. Now This had somehow cut through it all and awakened the beast. He wanted to run, to go back to the closet where he was safe. Yet here he stood in his apartment, mom had moved out of the old house three years back. The closet is where you go when you were little…. How was it that he felt like that little boy? The return of the winds seemed to transport him back. He walked to the front door and grasped the handle, his friends would be partying tonight. He could leave, or he could face the winds that he had once embraced than denied. He could ask the winds “why”, and ask his heart “what.”. He could face the buried winds that had began to blow. He would leave silence out of the loop this time. He remembered what he had read the night before… “Come unto me all ye that weary and heavy laden….” When he looked up, he heard his True and Faithful Father say…. “come to me…..” there was yearning and deep compassion and love that drew with strong cords the heart of the little boy. He somehow knew that to deny the call of His father would cost him years, he closed his eyes grasped the hand and jumped into the abyss……. As he looked up he knew, there was more than silence in that closet…..The Pursuer had been there. Time passed, he looked back and saw - The One that had once spoke truth and peace to the winds and waves- had spoken again. His True and Faithful Father didn’t judge or ignore the winds, He faced the winds and told the winds they were wrong. Even better, He told the boy’s heart that he was a precious child beloved of an ever-faithful Abba.
