Shower of Darkness

Shower of Darkness

I’m almost like a ghost sitting in this dark living room. It was light out and the sun had not set by the time you left out. You left no lights on because your time to return was undetermined. I’m sitting here frowned up like an angry, worried, parent, fuming in frustration, just waiting for you to walk through this door. What’s crazy is, you are grown and you owe me nothing. I’m just the rational side of you just waiting for you to get back to this house safe and sound. I hate when you run off and leave me.

It’s the wait…

Hold on a minute, I see headlights coming up the street. The bright lights peak through the vertical blinds of the living room window. Could this be you? I hope so. I’m not convinced until those lights turn into this driveway and you pull up. It is you and I’m glad. Like a nosey neighbor, I peep through the blinds in a way that I can see you but you can’t see me. I hear the car door close and you push the button to set the alarm. Your jacket, purse and car keys are in your hands as you approach the door. I notice a difference in your posture as you walk. It’s not the same.

It’s the posture…

I don’t know where you are returning from at this hour but looks fishy. My Mother’s voice rings in my ear, “Any reputable person, especially a young lady, has no business out this time of morning. It’s 2:45am. A few more hours and Dennys would have fresh pancakes on the griddle but instead, you chose to return home with not even an English muffin. I don’t know and I don’t think I want to know where you’ve been. That part is none of my business. What concerns me is the look on your face and the noticeable message that your body language is clearly communicating.

It’s the pancakes….

You opened the front door slowly and walk in as if you have run out of gas. Every move you make is telling me more and more of what I say I don’t want to know. From the time you walk in, everything is different. You are breaking your own rules.

#1 Violation- You kicked your shoes off in front of the couch and left them there.

#2 Violation- You don’t hang your keys on the key ring, you thrown them on the love seat with your purse.

#3 Violation- You turned on no lights. You walk straight through the house in absolute darkness as if you don’t care. I can’t see a thing and I’m sure you can’t. You didn’t even turn the porch light on when you came in. You normally have this place lit up like the Fourth of July and Christmas, but for some strange reason you bypass every light in this place. No lights, no shoes in the closet, no purse in the room, no phone on the charger. As a matter of fact, there was not even a call to let your party know that you made it home. There is definitely something on your mind. An argument at the club? A fallout with a close friend? A telephone conversation gone bad? I’m not sure and I can’t tell just yet. Whatever it is, darkness seems to comfort you with its shroud to hide in. Generally a person of love and light at all times, this morning you have chosen to wade your way down the eerie path called the hallway of your house. It’s almost as if you didn’t care. Straight to the closet you go and strip off everything. With what seems like disgust, you peel off everything and you throw it the basket. As you pull your shirt over your head, I hear you say something out of the darkness, “I can still smell it.” In goes the shirt and you are headed for the bathroom.

It’s the shroud…

Violation #4- You bypassed the mirror? Out of all people, you miss the mirror? Look, I can bypass the fact that you didn’t take your jewelry off, you left your earrings in, and even the fact that you didn’t even wrap your hair, but you bypassing the mirror is a Cardinal sin in this house. Even your reflection that wakes every morning to greet you on the other side of the mirror, is confused about your absence and neglect. Your place of positive self talk? Recitals of written affirmations? Your arena of self encouragement and self love? Wait!! You’ve been hurt? I want to ask you but I’m just the rational side of you and you won’t hear me. Who hurt you? I’ll find out.

It’s the mirror neglect…

I follow you as you walk into the cold shower stall empty handed. You close the door, stand under the shower head and then turn the water on. I am in shock just watching this. This water hasn’t even had to chance to warm up. The first five minutes will be a flood of ice water directly from the hills of the Antarctic but you could careless. You lean into the freezing water’s shock like it’s a suicide try or at best a water flogging in an attempt to punish yourself for some dumb decision you made.

It’s the flogging…

It’s clear, This is no ordinary shower. In an attempt to wash away a memory, a fragrance, or a touch, you shamefully bow under the jet sprays of the shower head. Is this washing or drowning? You think I don’t see it but I see your tears. You buckle under your heart’s pain and disappointment. This is no ordinary cry of abuse or attack. This is the cry of a self inflicted, consensual, dumb, embarrassing decision made in haste. You slide down the wall and sit on the floor of the shower stall. You are showering and hoping that the water pressure would somehow water blast it all away from your memory and skin but it won’t.

It’s the tears…

The four walls of this glass shower with ceramic walls seem to have transformed itself into a Catholic confession booth with an echo. The showerhead has become the microphone and the echo seems to be the sound system that carries your weak and feeble voice up and over heaven’s boundary and hopefully into the ear and heart of a merciful God.

It’s the booth…

What seems to be a simple morning shower to most, is actually a naked, stripped down confession and request for internal cleaning. Showers all over this world declare,”If these walls could talk, what might we say?” This shower is different. You would normally take your time and sensuously lather and bask in the soap suds. Today you use the bath and shower gel as if it’s some type of disinfectant. You are rubbing your skin with enough force to scrape paint off of a wall versus the normal comforting caress that you apply.

It’s the lather..

What comes in second to failing God is failing yourself. The bloopers, the failures, the blunders, the missteps and the mistakes hurt but the disobedience, disrespect and disregard for common sense forces us to feel like the scum of the earth. It’s that kind of scum that showers like these are built to scrub away.

It’s the scrub…

I’m so glad that the while you were on the shower floor, unbeknownst to you, the water began to warm. What started as a freezing chamber of torture and punishment will slowly transform into a house of healing. As you cry out to the only who can cleanse the internal you, in exchange for pain HE offers comfort. Healing waters begin to flow from the shower source and cover you.

It’s the healing waters…

You regain your strength, stand up, and reassume your position on the throne of your life as intended. I watch you step out of the shower, walk over and lean into the fogged mirror that you previously avoided. You wipe the steam away and begin reciting your confessions of Positive Self Talk!! Your recitals of Authoritative Affirmations!! Your declarations of Self Love and Your Love for your Creator!! Just as you finish, you notice the sun rising over the trees, through the window and into your heart. It’s a new day!!

It’s the warm water…

She’s back with a vengeance. Out from under a shroud of darkness, shame and soap, you emerge!!!!

I love you


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