Sticky

This post is a pretty accurate description of my heart right now. But I'm so trapped in the panic of taping everything up I'm blatently ignoring the consequences of the withdrawal. 

I am still finding the sticky remnants of packing tape on my pots and pans.

Six years ago, my mom and I {geniuses that we are} decided that we would bubble-wrap and packing tape all of my even-close-to-being breakables for my move from DC to middle-Georgia.

We spent hours using yards of clear-plastic packing tape fastening bubble wrap around pots, pans, Pampered Chef cookware, glassware, and silverware.

We invested in a plethora of packing tape and started the taping brigade. Nothing escaped the feathery wisp of the Scotch-brand sealant as it lured everything into its vice-grip.

If it was standing still, we taped it.

When our task was finished, we had successfully taped up the majority of my kitchen into hermetically-sealed plastic pockets of impenetrable bubble-dom and called it a day.

My stuff all made it down to Georgia safely.

But six years later I am still getting stuck to my pots and pans.

Safe but sticky.

I wonder how often we attempt to tape up our hearts so that they will not get damaged along our journey…

We wrap them in bubble wrap
Tape them up tight
And seal them off from getting broken

I am guilty of hermetically sealing myself inside of a bubble so that my heart will not get broken.

Closing out the bad
Sealing off the cracks
Protecting myself from wear and tear

But just like the pots and pans, I carry sticky residue with me years later.

Packing tape can protect a pan for a tumultuous moving season, but the residue is not worth the hassle.

What if I entered into change unhindered by my efforts at self-protection?

What if I fully offered my heart to God… to my husband… to my friends and stepped outside of my bubble to engage with them?

What if?

I would have a lot less sticky-tape to remove years later.

by Jenny @ Rainmakers and Storm Chasers (jennyrain.com)