A Slammed Door

There’s the cliché metaphor about God opening and closing doors.  I’m not entirely sure how theologically accurate it is to think that God opens doors (provides opportunities for us by smoothing out the way to get to those opportunities) and closes doors (God actively prevents us from doing something).  There are some situations where I think God does actively work like this but there are other situations where we may use the metaphor as a way to cover up other factors or forces that are actually working.

Whatever theological limitations there are on this metaphor it has been helpful to make sense of a difficult situation.

God closed a door on an opportunity I was pursuing. 

When I tried to enter the door, God slammed that door right in my face and sternly yelled from the other side of the door something to the effect of “Melissa, what did you think you were doing?  Was I not clear that this was not where I wanted you to go???  Why are you so unhappy with what I have given you right now??  Stay where you are!”  A huge door slammed directly in my face.  A loud slamming door with God on the other side of that door leaving me alone in a pitch-dark hallway with absolutely nowhere to go and no path leading me to whatever was next.  This hallway was scary and terrifying and confusing.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  I had begged God to be with me through all this because I didn’t know how to do it alone.  I didn’t even have a clue where or how to pick up and begin again once the door closed.  All I could focus on was that closed door and the harsh loud sound it made when it slammed shut. 

But after a while the sound of the door slamming faded.  Or maybe I had imagined the sound all along.  Yes, a door definitely closed, but maybe it was closed in a different manner than I had first imagined.  Maybe it was more like God closing the door while gently saying, “No, Melissa, not right now.  Come back later.”  Or maybe God softly closed the door because God knows it just wasn’t a door I should be going through even though that’s what I thought I wanted.  Or maybe God opened that door so I could look in and see it but then God is trying to tell me, “Melissa, you see how wonderful and beautiful that is?  Well, I’ve got something planned for you that is even better.”

As I was able to think about the door closing in a different way it eased the pain but not completely.  When you see so much beauty and possibility behind a door, it is impossible to forget it.  You cannot erase the thoughts of what might have been.

When people use the metaphor about God closing doors, a closed door almost always means God is opening another door for you, and I think that’s true.

However, I don’t yet see the open door and it really stinks right now (to put it nicely).  But what I didn’t realize when I was focusing on a slammed door is that there are at least nightlights in the hallway.  And I’m not alone in the hallway.  I’ve got the best Guide in the universe walking with me who will help me knock on doors.  And there are some really amazing cheerleaders cheering me on and supporting me in the hallway.  

Awkward Saturday

The proper term for today in the church year is “Holy Saturday”, but if they had asked me I would have called it “Awkward Saturday.”  It’s awkward because it is the day in between the greatest tragedy in history and the most triumphant event in history and it leaves me trying to figure out how one is supposed to feel and act on such a day.

We are supposed to be in mourning because Jesus was crucified on the cross, a horrific painful undeserved death that we remember each Good Friday.  But I know that tomorrow I won’t have to mourn because Christians around the world will be celebrating Jesus’ resurrection from the dead.  So why waste time and emotion mourning?  Why bother feeling the guilt and pain of knowing that I and my sins are the reason Jesus had to die?  It would be so much easier to just bypass that sorrow and celebrate but then I feel guilty for not recognizing the sorrow of the crucifixion. 

Even if I could figure out some sort of compromise between mourning and rejoicing, doing anything besides mourning and doing anything besides rejoicing would tarnish either extreme.  It’s awkward.

And so on Awkward Saturday I am forced to embrace the tension between Friday and Sunday, to struggle to find a balance, to consider all that the tension means.

But what really frustrates me is that the awkwardness doesn’t stop on Easter Sunday.  In reality, an awkwardness on a whole deeper level began that first Easter Sunday.  It is the awkward period of time in history, that in-between period when we know Jesus is coming back some day to restore the world to the perfect creation that God created in the beginning but we still have to wait for an unknown amount of time in this mess of a world for him to come back.

It’s not just awkward like an uncomfortable awkward conversation you have with someone you just met.  It’s an acute tension between now and what is to come.  The tension between the complete brokenness of humanity and the earth and a world of perfection on a level we cannot even comprehend.

Humanity has been waiting for about 2000 years and I’ve often felt impatient waiting while there is so much suffering, brokenness, and anguish.  I know I should continue to have hope and look forward to what is to come, but I often can’t see past the suffering and our feeble attempts to repair the brokenness of our world.

We must live in the awkwardness and the tension.  It is the longing for restoration that drives us to work for restoration, to turn to God and seek what we can do to be a part of God’s plan for restoration.

Just like the resurrection means nothing without the crucifixion, the restoration of creation means nothing without experiencing the brokenness of it, without struggling to understand, without so many failed and some successful attempts to create a better world.

What I Didn't Learn about Myself from Surfing: Part 2

In my last post I wrote about learning to surf in San Diego and some of the things about myself that prevented me from surfing well.  In the end, I realized I already knew these things about myself but I also came to appreciate some of my strengths in my surfing experience:

I’m not afraid of learning new things or experiencing new things (even sometimes scary things).  I had traveled across the country by myself, to a city I had never been to, where I knew no one.  I was in the Pacific Ocean with a surfboard and a surf instructor I had just met.  As Randy and I were about knee deep in the water, he told me about the jellyfish.  Apparently sometimes there are jellyfish in the water by the sandbar we were on, and they sting.  So Randy showed me how to do the “Jellyfish shuffle” by more slowly moving my feet forward rather than taking big steps in order to allow the critters to move out of the way before stepping on them.  Randy told me a few other people learning how to surf had gotten stung. 

I don’t give up easily.  I don’t even know how many dozens of times I fell off that surfboard.  Sometime I barely even managed to get going forward in a wave.  But time after time I forced my way back out against the waves to try again.  When I failed to get up using one method of getting up on the board I tried another way.   I was determined to surf and my actions reflected it.

I’m not afraid to fail.  While I had visions in my mind of me surfing like the professional surfers, I had a pretty good idea that this wouldn’t be the reality.  I knew learning to surf would be hard and I knew I wouldn’t be an instant success, but I did it anyway.  Also, I wasn’t afraid to fail big.  I’m really glad there weren’t many people on the beach that day because I’m sure some of my falls were some of the most ungraceful things I’ve done in my life.

I’m not afraid to dream and do what it takes to make my dream a reality.  As far as dreams go, learning to surf isn’t a huge or important dream, but it is something that I’ve wanted to do for a while so I made the plans and figured out a way to make it happen.

I know when it’s time to rest and renew.  This is something I’m still learning to be good at, but when I was surfing I demonstrated the skill well.   When I had tried my best, I had fallen more times that I could count, and I was just plain tired and hungry, I got some seriously delicious nachos and ate them on the beach while watching the clouds roll by and listening to the waves.