The Walls

By Lindsay Renee Neumann

They were thick walls, built strong with bricks and mortar. Wooden beams had been nailed together, and cement blocks piled high. Nothing could get in, nothing could get out. She was safe. Pain could no longer reach her; she wouldn’t be hurt again, as long as she stayed inside the walls. Safely inside those walls.

But if that was true, why was her heart such a mess. Anger and sadness, horrible pain filled her up inside. It was out of that anger she had built the walls. So much anger at the hurt that had cut so deeply into her. So much anger at the burdens that she carried. She didn’t want to be hurt anymore, ever. She built the walls to protect her, to keep her safe. She wouldn’t let herself be hurt again.

She was so lonely, sitting inside those walls. Curled up on the floor she cried, tears rolled down her face, aching sobs rose from her throat. Oh, so much pain, so much hurt, so alone.

He stood outside the walls. He wanted to reach her, some how. He had watched as she built the walls, it hurt Him to see her pain. He had called her name, but in her anger she did not hear Him. He had tried to help her carry the burdens, but she would snatch them back with such rage it hurt Him so. The anger, the pain, the fury that poured out of her broke His heart.

She sat inside those walls for a long time. She became comfortable with the anger that surrounded her. She wore mask to hide her pain. Nothing could hurt her anymore, not now, not as long as she stayed in the safety of her walls. Nothing could get in, nothing could get out. Her hurt became familiar, part of who she was. She saw her world through skewed glasses, through her pain, through her walls. It was normal. She rarely felt the weight of the burdens she carried, she had become used to the way the strained her shoulders and the way the ropes chaffed her wrists. It was her life. Inside those walls, she was safe, but she was stuck.

She would look at those around her. She could see they had something she did not. The sweet essence of joy, of peace flowed from their lives. While all that came from hers was the stale, pungent odor of her anger and her pain. It began to get hard to hide behind her mask. The paint of it had begun to chip away. Others began to see that there was hurt in her eyes, sadness in her smile. But no one could reach her because of the walls.

He never stopped saying her name. He would whisper it gently through the small cracks in the walls. He would call to her, sing to her, and tell her that He loved her. Sometimes she thought she heard Him.

“Where are you!” she would cry. “Why did you leave!”

It hurt Him so much to hear those words from her. He had never left, but she couldn’t see that, not through the thickness of the walls.

Slowly she began to get weary of the load that she carried. Her eyes began to hurt from the strain of looking through the walls. Her anger was knotted so tightly she could hardly breathe. She sat, she was quiet. To much pain inside of her, she didn’t know what to do.

“Are you really there!” She screamed into the stillness. “I can’t see you, I can’t hear you. I can’t do this anymore!”

She wanted to be done, done with these burdens and done with the pain. She began to pull at the boards on the walls, yanking the nails loose. But she had built the walls so strong. She kicked at the bricks trying to find one loose to get out. She was so weary, so weak from the burdens and the hurt; she didn’t have any strength left to tear down the walls. She collapsed on the floor and cried. Sobbing tears of anger, anger at the pain that had caused her to build these walls, but anger at herself for building them. She cried for hours, until she had no tears left inside.

“Help me,” were the only words she could muster. Her strength was gone. There was nothing she could do. She slept.

Gently with His strong hands He began to pull out the loose boards from the wall. Slowly, and carefully He removed the brick that had been built so high. When she awoke she realized she could see through the walls.

“No,” she cried. It frightened her. She had been alone inside the walls so long; the thought of leaving them was unbearable. She didn’t want anymore pain. If she left she was convinced that it would all happen again. Pain cutting her so deeply, anger swallowing her whole. No, she wouldn’t do it, not again. She would stay put, inside the safety of her walls. She held tightly to the burdens, she could handle this all fine. If this was the way she had to live, she would do it. She would live with this pain if it meant being safe.

His eyes filled with tears as He watched her scramble to gather up her burdens and pain. She tried to cover the holes he had made in the walls with them. She couldn’t leave what she felt was safe. She wouldn’t give it up. She was so afraid. He called to her again, reminded her of His love, His provision, His grace. His heart broke to see her turn away, trying to carry all the hurt alone.

As the days went by she got used to the new way the walls were, with the holes and loose boards. She became comfortable with seeing a bit of the outside, but she was still frightened of the pain she was sure awaited her out there. Sometime she thought she heard Him calling her. But she had almost forgotten the sound of His voice.

She was still angry, oh was she angry. Why did she have to stay in these walls? Why did she have to hurt so badly? There was no way she could get out now, she was too far in, to far separated from Him. The anger boiled up inside her again. In her rage she screamed and pounded on the walls. The loose boards gave way, and old bricks crumbled. She thrashed about wildly, anger streaming from her. She kicked her burdens hating them for what they represented. The ropes that wrapped around her wrists she tried to untie. She wasn’t strong enough; she wasn’t strong enough to remove the ropes, to rid her self of the burdens. Trembling from exhaustion she sunk to the ground and wept.

The holes in the walls were bigger now. She peered out through her tear filled eyes. She could see Him, standing out side the walls.

“Daddy?” she whispered.

“I am here, my child,” His voice was strong and gentle. She looked up and her eyes met His. In that moment she felt something. Something that she hadn’t felt for so long, she felt love.

He spoke her name, she heard it clearly, and the walls fell down.

He ran to her, and she fell willingly into His embrace. She cried so hard. She felt so awful, so guilty for all she had done, for putting put those walls, for running away. She was so sorry.

“Hush now,” He said to her, “all is forgiven, and all is forgotten.” He held her close until she had no more tears to cry. He listened as she told Him of her anger and her pain. He wiped away the last of her tears and began to mend her brokenness. She sat there for a long time, listening to His heartbeat.

As they rose to leave, He extended his arms to ask for her burdens. No, she thought. She could carry those. She gathered them up in her arms. They were hers, she could handle them. He stood there saying nothing, only waiting. She had grown tired of carrying them on her own. She dropped them at His feet. He scooped them up and placed them on His shoulders.

“You were never meant to deal with these alone.” He said to her. “Come now,” He offered her His hand, “and we will walk this road together. For my yoke is easy, my burden is light, I will guide you steps. And I will be with you, always.”