Abide

Doors creak slowly open, giving me the chance to curiously peek around the edge to catch a small glimpse of what lies waiting on the other side. Inhaling deeply to muster the courage to walk through one, I begin to take that step of faith, only for a zephyr to shut the door that in the moment before had just been open before me. Not sure that I have the valor to look around to see if any other doors are open, I remain.

Hopes lie dormant on the shelf of my heart like the unread classics on my windowsill that I can't find it in me to dive into. What if disappointment results in place of what ought to be joy? Am I holding my breath on a hope that may be unrealistic while reality begs attention before my eyes? Not sure that I have the valor to exhale and release, I remain.

I am certain that I am told to remain in one thing. In it I remain, making certain by doing so, to also remain in uncertainty.

Remaining means waiting to exhale. Perhaps when it is finally time and in me to breathe deep, the air I breathe will be the air of home.

Where doors are open.

Where hope is awakened.

Home.