This heart has way too many rooms.
Forget anatomy and look closely at all the space you’re renting out. You’re an owner, but you have to admit: you don’t choose who lives between those thin walls. Those tenants crawl into you life and, even if they’re gone after a while, they still take up so much space. Perhaps once they make you care, they can’t take it back. Perhaps you never truly let go of those whom, at some point, you held dear. No matter what they did. Regardless of their transformations. For some reason, they’ve earned some space in that heart of yours. So you don’t ask them to vacate, despite their departure or alienation.
In time, people should pile up and suffocate in that tiny space, but the number of rooms keeps growing, the walls keep expanding, the space stays welcoming.
I love that about people.
We have the capacity to care despite carelessness, to welcome despite rudeness, to pray despite defeat, and to be kind when kindness is miles away. We allow ourselves to be generous with our most precious asset. We offer the best view and we keep the temperature just right. We don’t ask for compensation, even when we have to clean up after the tenants leave. We never truly let them go, even if we may move them to a smaller room. Who knows? Maybe one day they’ll appreciate having a safe place to stay.