These are the ramblings of a wanna-be writer and enamored reader. They promise to be raw, enthusiastic and probably repetitive and ramble-y. But they are a true representation of my word-filled mind trying desperately to sort out the feelings and thoughts that consume me as I read. Enjoy?

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

About the red door...

Well, crap. I was trying to fix my background and I had no idea what I was doing and I deleted the post! I hadn't posted since April though, so I guess it's okay. Maybe I'll keep up with it now. Here is the first post again:

Warning: This is my first real attempt at blogging. (I don't think writing on Xanga like 3 times when I was 11 counts.)

I thought it appropriate to start with an explanation of my title, Through the Red Door. The things is, I really, really like red doors. More specifically, I love gray stone churches with red doors. Most of them are Lutheran churches - I think it's like their thing, and I'm not Lutheran, but that's okay. They have awesome church doors. I really, really want to get married in a gray stone church on a hill, in the middle of nowhere, with a red door. Don't ask me where I'll find that - my guests might have to hike a bit. :) I'm not really sure why I love them - I just do.

And so, like everything else I love, I had to write a poem about my red door love. I intended to make it just about the color and the...wonderfulness of it?, but it turned into something more about love. I think it could apply to God's love for us, or the love a husband has for his wife? Like how it can be like a safe haven when you need it. Right? Maybe you think I'm nuts. If I get my red door someday, I want the poem printed on the back of the programs. Is it narcissistic of me to want my own poetry printed on my programs? Oh well.

In my deepest, dearest dreams
In the haze of all my failures, old and new
In the realm of all the possibilities
I see a burst of color shining through

At times I can barely make it out
But it's there nonetheless
One sure thing in all my doubt
A beacon of hope in my distress

I try to take hold, but it's just beyond my reach
Discouraged and tired, I fall away
But a steady hand catches me
And invites me in to stay

With patient loving kindness,
He begins to heal my hurts
And as he removes the blinders,
I begin to see my worth

All at once, the shadows of my past
Don't consume me anymore
I feel like I've come home at last,
As I walk through the red door

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