Do Not Bar the Door

Ask anyone of a certain age, and they will tell you where they were when they heard President Kennedy had been shot, or the Twin Towers had been attacked, or Michael Jackson had died, or the Birds had won the Super Bowl. Depending on our interests, these are things that mark us, that have an impact on our lives or what we think about the world; these are things that can still evoke the same feelings, years or months later, that we felt the moment the news reached our ears.

In 2009, I had one such moment. I was sitting at my desk, writing and thinking about all the wonderful and redemptive events God had orchestrated throughout my life. He had always been at work, pursuing me and protecting me, despite my rebellion and apathy. I prayed that whatever He had for me, whatever He wanted to do in me, I was on board. A few months ago, same thing. Only this time, I was driving to work. As I twisted along a dark airport back road, I prayed, "I will not bar the door to tragedy or sickness or poverty or persecution or whatever other thing You might use to bring glory to Your name."

I know someone who lost her husband. A husband she loved desperately; a husband who was young. They had the "perfect life," and wonderful plans for retirement. Her loss -- her inestimable loss -- touched me deeply; her ability to forge ahead and find the joy in every day thereafter is a testimony to the God who sustains her. I know someone who has been battling cancer for years. Not even the terrible, disabling, set up a GoFundMe page cancer that draws support and encouragement from all over. This is the wearisome PET Scan that just never seems to come back clean; the ongoing, raise your hand and ask for prayer month after month cancer in which her hair falls out, and grows back, only to fall out again and again. The cancer that never roars, but insidiously lingers to mock our hope and certainty. But not hers! She inspires us all to keep walking when the road is long. I know a woman who died penniless. She'd served in the Peace Corps, earned multiple degrees, ran several businesses, and lived a colorful, adventuresome, selfless life. I met her when she was a client at a food bank, crippled and unable to do some of the simplest things for herself. She knew, though, it had never been about her. Is this the kind of life I would choose? Is this the destiny, the response I would seek in turning all I have, all I am over to the God of Creation?

No, absolutely not. But, here we are. We have suddenly become parents to two small children. Small children who have needs stretching beyond the normal potty training and food challenges. As if that wasn't enough, it requires we navigate the state foster care system. Our home, our health, our financials have become subject to the strictest scrutiny; our life has been in perpetual metamorphosis since August, and our living quarters look like something out of an episode of "Hoarders". Change. Chaos. Powerlessness. Things not in Scott's or my DNA. But I will not bar the door.

Whatever discomfort or confusion or difficulty or heartache I encounter is momentary. It will not mark me or impact my life; it will not evoke feelings of failure or fear a moment longer than it takes me to turn them over to the God Who Sees Me. What remains are those moments of surrender, those moments I asked God to show me what He wants to do, what He will use to bring glory to His name. Those moments provoke me to forge ahead, walk the long trail, and serve others that God might receive the glory -- glory that will ring forevermore!

Open your ears, open your eyes, open your doors and join in its song!