Door slams from the wind are of course more prevalent for doors leading outside, especially storm doors.
I needed space of my own (and to make a bit of a mess).
He carefully did what he had practiced many times: he adjusted the wall, opened the door, went through, and closed it noiselessly. ” Leading the unhappy soldiers out, she quietly shut the closet’s entrance door, so that it looked again like a typical closet in our neighborhood. We were all from the outside, and we’d come to pray with those inside as part of a prison ministry weekend event.
He was now in the neighbor’s house, and they had rehearsed how to transfer him immediately to a temporary hideout. Isn’t it terrible the way our children come up with these crazy ideas and contraptions without so much as mentioning it to their parents? We chatted nervously until finally a guard came to escort us to the prison gym. This blonde girl was complaining during a one-hour visit to prison?
I also tell him that the church may be imperfect, but God is not. And this wounded young man is much grander than his experiences with his awful father.
In that moment a shift seems to occur, though to what effect or what extent I’ll never know. Nine times out of ten, people say no—but he agrees. All I can offer is my honest messiness, and it seems to be enough for this child of God, and for me. He takes off his hoodie, and for the first time he makes eye contact with me.Maybe because we are more akin than we know, both just 35 years old, both spiritually disheveled and canvassed with a lot of pain and a lot of truth.He asks me how I could step into a church that condemns gays, and I explain that I don’t: I go to a church that is willing to sacrifice attendance and funding for its pro-gay beliefs.It’s like throwing the party you don’t want to bother with at first, always such fun when the guests arrive. Is God tapping on my closed, cracked, or wide-open door, pleased to be let in and to listen, not minding my mess? I hope as time goes on the door gains a patina from much use, with an inviting courtyard inside and a party underway for any who want to attend, come as you are.I volunteer at a shelter in San Francisco’s Tenderloin district. Her words are fluid and beautiful, fostered by a lifetime of church.On occasion my girls’ doors are cracked open and I get that same sort of soul peek. I try to leave my own life’s door at least cracked for friends and family.I am sometimes even invited in to view the full-on mess. It’s not my natural inclination, but I rarely regret it.My older brother, however, overheard a quiet discussion between our parents and, in great secrecy, passed it on to me.He also knew we shared an Our secret spread around the neighborhood.This door was cleverly hidden, so that it seemed to be part of the wall.My mother then hung all kinds of stuff in front of the wall to hide any sign of the door, even from the family.