I Called a Meeting in My Soul Today

I called a meeting in my soul today.

Pulled up the chairs.

Closed the door.

Every voice that lives within me

was formally invited.

The Worrier arrived first, of course,

arms full of tomorrow’s fears.

“What if this goes wrong?” she whispered.

“What if hope slips through my hands?”

The Planner straightened all the papers,

lined them neatly on the table.

“If we do this right,” she said softly,

“surely peace will follow.”

The Doubter lingered near the doorway,

not faithless, simply weary.

“I have believed,” she said quietly,

“but I still need questions answered.”

The Wishful Thinker stared out the window,

tracing dreams across the glass.

“One day,” she sighed,

“everything will finally make sense.”

The Child stood quietly at the edge,

barefoot, small and still.

“I just want to be held,” she said,

as if asking was too much.

The Faithful Servant took the last seat,

hands worn from constant giving. “

I have done all I know to do,”

she said, eyes lowered.

Then silence settled over the room,

heavy and unmistakable.

We sat within our separate voices,

unaware of who was missing.

We had planned.

We had worried.

We had hoped.

But we had not made room.

And beyond the circle of our separate voices,

God waited,

patient still,

knocking.