Nothing like having the door slammed in your face so hard that your toes get caught and your nose gets splinters. And if you're like me you think that this means you've still got a chance because your toes are stuck under the door. That's what "having a foot in the door" means right? It's dark and lonely on this side of the door and you desperately want to be back on the other side. You jiggle the knob, knock on the panels, "Let me in! I'm supposed to be in there!"
Then someone on the other side stomps on your feet until you have no choice but to yank them out from under the door. In doing so, you fall backwards, stumbling, trying to grab the door knob to stop your fall.
You flail backwards like a cartoon character falling off a cliff. Falling, falling, falling. Panic starts to build. You're crying, thinking of ways to open the dang door, wishing there was something you could do to get yourself out of this predicament. You're blaming the door. You're blaming yourself. You're blaming the jerk that slammed it shut in your face.
But just before you go splat on the cold hard floor of rejection, you whisper, "OK God. I give up."
Suddenly big strong arms are around you and you're safe. You're loved. He looks down at you resting in His embrace and smiles. Warm comforting peace slowly fills your body from your stepped-on toes through your sucker-punched gut and into the tip of your splinter-filled nose.
You take a deep breath and sigh. You're safe, but it still hurts. That door didn't close on its own. Someone, probably someone you trust, someone you counted a friend or maybe even a loved one, slammed it. And if that wasn't enough then they stomped on your feet. It hurts. A lot.
You start to explain to God what happened. You try to justify your hurt, anger and sadness. Bug He just puts His finger to His lips. "Shhhhh...." Your grumblings cease.
"I'm sorry you were hurt," He whispers. "I tried to get you to close that door on your own, but you weren't paying attention. You were consumed with doing what you thought was My Will that you weren't listening." He smiles and squeezes your hand.
A light bulb goes off in your head and suddenly it all makes sense. He sees the realization in your eyes and smiles again.
"You were doing a wonderful job but didn't you notice no matter how much of yourself you poured into this, you just feltl ike you were hitting a wall."
You nod. He hugs you close.
"Oh dear one, I'm sorry you hurt yourself."
You nod, smiling through the tears. He holds you against His chest and you melt into His embrace. His steady breath and strong heartbeat wash away the doubt, the anger, the sadness. You forgive the people who hurt you. They were unwitting tools of God, used to push you toward Him and His will.
Now it doesn't seem like such a horrible injustice and an unhappy ending but a beautiful beginning ordained by God.
When He sees that you've forgiven and understand all that happened, He gently places you on your feet. There, next to the old door now boarded and nailed shut is a new door. It is open and a warm glow streams out of it. He puts His hand on your shoulder and says, "OK dear one, now here's the door for you. Here's the path I want you to take. Go. Make me proud."
Gently He pushes you toward the door. You approach cautiously, afraid this door might suddenly swing shut but then the glow of possibility and potential envelops you. You smile and go through the door. And it's kind of like waking up in technicolor after weathering that grayscale tornado.
