My favorite
place to retreat used to be my master bedroom closet. No matter how
large or how small, I could always somehow squeeze myself, a pillow, a journal,
and my bible into that 4’ x 6’ space. Oh, Kleenex accompanied me too. The dimly
lit closet felt safe and the canopy of clothes overhead created an aura of
coziness. And best of all, my kids never thought of looking for “Mom” in the
closet!
Why did I find
the closet so desirable? I needed a place to deal with life’s hurts and
disappointments, my anger and frustration. In quiet seclusion I could share conversations
with God, sorting through reasons why I was in the closet. Allowing my emotions to surface, and having a
good cry, cleanses my heart and heals my soul. Tears are like words the
heart cannot express.
To be honest, I
really don’t like “losing it,” or some say be “reduced to tears.” That implies weakness of character. Quite the
opposite. Getting in touch with our sorrow, pain and needs, requires slowing
down enough to cry out to God. It calls for honesty, humility and courage.
