There's a door down the street with a small opening at the top. The person behind the door can slip it open and closed as they please. They control who comes in and out and they prefer neither occurs.
Every now and then you'd see a curious soul knock on the metal door and the latch would sometimes open and sometimes stay shut. They would always ask, "How are you this lovely day?" The voice would always answer politely, "Oh, just fine." The lad outside would wander away smiling and content with the encounter and even overjoyed if the face peered from the latch.
The face and the voice behind the door was convincing enough. No matter how gloomy and cold the door looked, you heard the cheery voice and saw the glowing smile on that face and you were convinced the voice behind that door was one of a gladdened soul.
But one man, a very particular scientist sat across the street on the park bench each lunch hour and watched the curious and polite people in their charade. He was not so convinced. One sunny day he strolled across the street and gave a good knock on the cold, hard metal door. The latch did not open and after some scuffling noises you heard the polite voice call out "Yes, I'm doing fine this wonderful morning, thank you for asking." The scientist responded, "Sir, may I come inside?"
There was the most curious quiet on the opposite side of the thick metal. The voice became shriller and more chilled, "No thank you kind sir, we're all fine in here, have a merry day." Then the voice scuffled away.
The scientist gave a good two bangs on the metal and called out quite loudly, "Well sir I'm not thoroughly convinced. I'd very much like to join you in tea and hear about you. You've persuaded to the rest of them, but your manner is a bit mysterious to me." The latch opened, behind it was not the usual glowing man, but a ragged skinny face. The scientist realized that from his perch on the opposite end of the street the face had seemed fuller and happier. Only a fool could be convinced otherwise from this near to the latch.
The voice whispered, "Why would you want to know anything other than how I am this day?" The scientist gave a warm smile and leaned closer, "Just humor me." The latch slid close slowly. After a few long moments the latches began to open on the other side. You could hear several different sorts of bolts unhinging as if the man had been preparing for nuclear war.
The door barely opened and a small withered hand summoned him inside. The man slowly came inside, wary that not many, if any had entered these lonely chambers. The man slammed the door shut behind him and hid in the corner covering his face and shrinking under a shabby blanket he was substituting for a coat. The scientist analyzed the room before him.
Dark quarters, hardly any light shed on the piles of dirt and junk that lay around his feet. A small mattress lie in the opposite corner of the 6x10 chamber. The man still in the corner was audibly weeping. As the scientist turned the whimpering soul cowered further into the wall. How could this man have hidden himself from so many passerby's?
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If metaphors don't come easily to you I'll break the parable down by stating this: I've been the man behind the door waiting for a scientist to invite himself in. It's too easy to hid behind thick walls in our culture where the word "Fine" can drive most people away.
Today I've realized a little more that hiding behind the door is not freedom. Galatians 5:1 "For freedom Christ has set us free.." Today I'm praying He'll show me how to open the door to the people who really want in. Allowing them to see things aren't always as they seem and allowing them to help. I'm having to learn that I'm not meant to be all put together and perfect. I will have flaws and I will make mistakes.
The longer I close the door to the people around me the longer I live in my own mess, unable to clean it up and I will grow withered and weak.
If the door is closed to His people, the door is closed to Him as well.
Chelsy.
Every now and then you'd see a curious soul knock on the metal door and the latch would sometimes open and sometimes stay shut. They would always ask, "How are you this lovely day?" The voice would always answer politely, "Oh, just fine." The lad outside would wander away smiling and content with the encounter and even overjoyed if the face peered from the latch.
The face and the voice behind the door was convincing enough. No matter how gloomy and cold the door looked, you heard the cheery voice and saw the glowing smile on that face and you were convinced the voice behind that door was one of a gladdened soul.
But one man, a very particular scientist sat across the street on the park bench each lunch hour and watched the curious and polite people in their charade. He was not so convinced. One sunny day he strolled across the street and gave a good knock on the cold, hard metal door. The latch did not open and after some scuffling noises you heard the polite voice call out "Yes, I'm doing fine this wonderful morning, thank you for asking." The scientist responded, "Sir, may I come inside?"
There was the most curious quiet on the opposite side of the thick metal. The voice became shriller and more chilled, "No thank you kind sir, we're all fine in here, have a merry day." Then the voice scuffled away.
The scientist gave a good two bangs on the metal and called out quite loudly, "Well sir I'm not thoroughly convinced. I'd very much like to join you in tea and hear about you. You've persuaded to the rest of them, but your manner is a bit mysterious to me." The latch opened, behind it was not the usual glowing man, but a ragged skinny face. The scientist realized that from his perch on the opposite end of the street the face had seemed fuller and happier. Only a fool could be convinced otherwise from this near to the latch.
The voice whispered, "Why would you want to know anything other than how I am this day?" The scientist gave a warm smile and leaned closer, "Just humor me." The latch slid close slowly. After a few long moments the latches began to open on the other side. You could hear several different sorts of bolts unhinging as if the man had been preparing for nuclear war.
The door barely opened and a small withered hand summoned him inside. The man slowly came inside, wary that not many, if any had entered these lonely chambers. The man slammed the door shut behind him and hid in the corner covering his face and shrinking under a shabby blanket he was substituting for a coat. The scientist analyzed the room before him.
Dark quarters, hardly any light shed on the piles of dirt and junk that lay around his feet. A small mattress lie in the opposite corner of the 6x10 chamber. The man still in the corner was audibly weeping. As the scientist turned the whimpering soul cowered further into the wall. How could this man have hidden himself from so many passerby's?
________________________________________________________________________________
If metaphors don't come easily to you I'll break the parable down by stating this: I've been the man behind the door waiting for a scientist to invite himself in. It's too easy to hid behind thick walls in our culture where the word "Fine" can drive most people away.
Today I've realized a little more that hiding behind the door is not freedom. Galatians 5:1 "For freedom Christ has set us free.." Today I'm praying He'll show me how to open the door to the people who really want in. Allowing them to see things aren't always as they seem and allowing them to help. I'm having to learn that I'm not meant to be all put together and perfect. I will have flaws and I will make mistakes.
The longer I close the door to the people around me the longer I live in my own mess, unable to clean it up and I will grow withered and weak.
If the door is closed to His people, the door is closed to Him as well.
Chelsy.
Chelsy, I want to thank you for this post. I often forget (or just don't think about) the fact that Christ doesn't just give me freedom in a general sense, but that He gives me freedom even from myself. Thank you for that reminder.
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