The doorknob jammed on my home today. It’s to the side door that enters through to the kitchen, the door most often used as opposed to the actual front door. The modern version of the servant’s entrance- I suppose. We, who live here and come and go often, utilize it while guests are ushered in through the front door with its tiny vestibule, doorbell and bright exterior lights.
As my dad removed the doorknob to be replaced I remembered my first night living in Columbus.
I had just worked a late shift at Starbucks and returned at night to find my housemate out and the door locked. I am notoriously bad at keys and locks and this was no exception. I couldn’t get the door open didn’t know what to do. Panicked, exhausted and living on a strange dark street in a mostly foreign part of the city, I am pretty sure I shed a few tears.
I called my housemate – no response. I knocked on a neighbor’s door to ask if there was some kind of trick to the locks on our similar apartments. The response – through a shut door – was they didn’t know what I was talking about. So I called my go-to at the time, his response – he’s on the other side of the city 45 minutes away and if I couldn’t get it open he’d call and see if I could stay at someone else’s house. All I wanted was a savior, someone to physically come to my rescue.
Next on the short chain of people I knew locally was my housemate’s boyfriend. He answered and sent over my housemate (who was conveniently with him) to unlock the door. She came over and while simultaneously pulling on the doorknob and turning the key, unlocked the door. Apparently in the cool weather the seal jams and you need to pull, not push. I felt pretty foolish but entered and took a load off before eventually heading to bed.
Back to my dad. He returned from the hardware store with a new doorknob and is fixing the door.
Doors are always these big life metaphors of opportunity: a new job, a promising relationship, relocating cities. What does that mean when we push and pull to open one and it doesn’t budge? I think the usual response is well it’s not God’s will for that door to open. We may decide to pout or sit there watching for the door to open or sometimes throw a temper tantrum.
What if we need our Dad to be the one we call on to open the door, to fix what is broken so we can enter through that door? What if it is not that the door is meant to stay closed but that we, God and us, are supposed to do it together?
Some will take an extreme approach – only walking through doors they already find open, thinking well if God wants me to go surely the door will open itself. This is dangerous. The Enemy is quick to open doors with flair and a curtsey. What looks good may not be so.
Or some say if the door is shut, it isn’t meant to be. Maybe but I also believe God wants us actively involved in opening the doors in our lives. He just wants to be there with us along the way. Waiting on Him for the timing is beautiful.
We are worthy of using the front door, not the servant’s side door. In His Kingdom we are humbly worthy and the doors He opens are part of the plans He has to prosper us and give us a future. Together is the key.
I pray You would be patient with us as we try our own way to open doors in our lives. I pray you would be the guiding hand that unlocks the doors, the light that guides our path, the lamp unto our feet. Remind us that we are worthy of the front door, ushered into Your plans for us on the red carpet of Your Son’s blood, poured out willingly. Waiting on You is beautiful. Remind us of who we are in You, of Your goodwill towards our lives. Keep us humble to always walk in Your favor, which is life itself. Keep us keen of the Enemy’s tricks to offer the world’s rewards, when Your love’s rewards are joy, peace, patience, kindness… Your love hopes all things and endures all things. Let us live in it and love from it.