Previous Challenge Entry
Topic: Doors (04/05/04)
TITLE: The Doors of Our Lives (with apologies to daytime tv)
By Jeff Kindrick
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The doors between God and man are of our construction, for He is always awaiting the invitation to join with a soul born from above. All too often, those are the massive, impenetrable variety of door erected in the depths of a heart hardened by lifeís adversities. That obdurate heart may beat in a body grimly determined to go-it-alone or in one intellectually disinclined to believe in a power greater than itself. It might belong to a sheep who has wandered blindly from the flock, unable to strike out at personal misfortune and directing his anger and frustration instead at God. Each story is unique, yet alike as the repetition of history.
In my case the door was always transparent. Many times as a young man in uniform far from home, the eyes of my soul saw the Lord walking beside me in the loneliest moments. More than once in those four years I know that He was watching my six because I emerged unscathed when my own stupidity or anotherís ill will should by rights have put paid to my account. But there was always one excuse or another that kept that door closed, and certainly none of them were original.
God kept on opening doors even though I stubbornly refused to reciprocate. He brought Linda into my life in 1977 and gifted me with the good sense to propose marriage. She has walked at my side ever since, through my diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis, the death of my parents, two hip replacements and sundry other orthopedic surgeries and, for the last two years, fibromyalgia. Linda managed all of this while mothering two blessed children and mourning the loss of her own mother. And still that one critical door, clear as glass to anyone with the eyes to see, remained closed.
It took 45 years for me to joyfully open that door. The message finally got through as Linda and I contemplated our son and daughter facing, without spiritual armor, a world fallen and sinking lower each day. We were baptized on Easter Sunday, 1996, four days after my 45th birthday. The kids were a bit of a struggle over the next year, but I know that God used us to model a better life in Christ. Easter of 1997 saw the whole family come through that door hand-in-hand as the youngsters were immersed and accepted the grace of Jesus Christ.
I know those marvelous children are a large part of the reason that I was put here. Kevin, age nineteen and his Masterís Commission team, as I write this, have just descended from the mountains of Guatemala to the Youth With A Mission base following nine days ministering to the natives in the small village of Cuyquel. He is opening every door that he can lay his hands on, all for the Lord. Brenna at sixteen is a consummate pianist, plays keyboard in our church praise band and plans a career in science or engineering. Hersí is a quiet but strong faith made manifest by her work in the church and her example to her friends. God must have a million doors that she can open simply by asking.
Now as I deal with daily pain, reduced flexibility and the likelihood that I wonít be able to continue indefinitely in the job Iíve held for 25 years, God has brought me to another door. While driving between sales calls a few days ago, the thought suddenly came that I should do a Google search for Christian writers. During my lunch hour I found FaithWriters and the opportunity to limber up my rusty writing skills in a community of faith, hope and love. God is all about doors.