Was That You, Jesus?

I spent the last week at the Academy for Spiritual Formation exploring, in part, my spiritual journey. I was raised in a spiritual void, even considering myself an athiest for a few years. I keep hearing that God is and was in all things, even when we don't recognize or can't name it. I finally saw God in my life and in the world when I was twenty-three and wrote this poem about the years before that.

Was That You, Jesus?

Listen! I am standing at the door knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me. ––Revelation 3:20


Maybe you were standing at the door for a long time
for a very long time but I didn’t see you
didn’t hear you over the clattering footsteps
of all the people walking in and out of my life

Maybe you rang the buzzer but my wires were disconnected
Maybe I opened the door but someone else
brushed in past you so I dated him

Maybe you knocked but I never heard
because I wasn’t home I hadn’t yet learned
to live in that house my house
with the gaping hole where the soul was supposed to be

Maybe you knocked but I was too tired
or too busy to answer and you had to stop
for just a moment because your knuckles were bruised and bleeding

Maybe when I thought I heard you
it was only the echo of your last knock
so that by the time I made it to the door I thought
no one was there

Maybe I heard you knock and considered letting you in
but I’d hidden the key to the door of my heart
or maybe the lock had been broken too many times

Maybe you didn’t really barge in
Maybe I’m the one who unscrewed the hinges
so that the door only looked closed

Maybe that’s why it seemed like you showed up
all of a sudden and finally one small sharp rap
toppling the door and you didn’t mind
walking in barefoot over the splinters


©Cathy Warner 2006