The Door

It’s ok to grieve when the door closes.

It’s ok to stand, shut out and staring,

and sort through feelings of

rejection,

shock,

and resentment.

It’s ok to grieve when the door slams shut. 

It’s ok to pound the rough wood with your fists and shout,

“This isn’t fair!

It doesn’t make sense!

Why is this happening?!?!”

It’s ok to lean your forehead against the peeling paint and cry for

what you wanted,

what you waited for,

what you planned.

It’s ok to grieve when the door closes. 

It’s ok to lament the loss of the almost,

to be crushed under the ashes of a dream

disintegrating. 

It’s ok to feel like you’ve lost your way,

for panic to form a knot in your throat,

for your stomach to clinch at the uncertain future.

It’s ok to grieve when the door slams shut 

but you can’t stay there 

because God has another door. 

You might not know which one or

what it looks like or

where it’ll be or

when it’ll open 

but God has another door.

“How abundant are the good things that you have stored up for those who fear you, that you bestow in the sight of all, on those who take refuge in you.” Ps 31:9

It’s ok to shrug at the shutting and say,

“I don’t understand, but God does.”

It’s ok to turn around.

It’s ok to rest against the rough wood

and wait

and worship

until you know where to walk next. 

It’s ok to surrender the good

so your hands are

open

to receive what’s best.

It’s ok to not know and

just trust.

Because God has another door.

Yes,

but

a l s o

God IS the door.

“I am the door for the sheep; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out and find pasture.” Jn 10:9