Drafts on The Other Side of the Door
Almost every time I walk into the kitchen, I find my dog, Scout, sitting with his nose pressed to the door waiting, hoping somebody will let him outside. We open the door and he skitters his paws like he is on ice, and nearly throws his back out to slide through that door. Once outside he does a quick loop of the yard. If the neighbor dog isn’t out to bark at (they have a fervent contest to be crowned the loudest dog in the neighborhood) or a dastardly squirrel isn’t on the fence who needs to be put in his place, he circles back around to sit with his nose pressed up to the door waiting, hoping somebody will let him back inside. Once inside he does a loop of the kitchen to see if anyone dropped a stray crumb or preferably a whole sandwich. Then, you guessed it, back to the door.
Scout hates a shut door! He wants, nay, he needs to know what is on the other side. If you dare to shut him out of the bathroom, he will press his little spotted nose to the crack in the door and wait in quiet desperation for someone to have mercy on him and open the door with their magical door-opening-hands. But, if you take him into the bathroom with you, he will do the same thing on the reverse side of the door, boring holes with his eyes into the oh, so very opaque wood, longing to know what is happening on the other side of that door. If Scout could have a super power it would be x-ray vision. He needs with all his doggy soul to know WHAT IS HAPPENNING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THAT DOOR?!
I see much of myself in Scout, not only the fierce love (that reads as desperation) of food, the excitement over friends that can seem aggressive but, also, the ability to do nothing all day and still be exhausted. When I watch him, nose pressed against that door, believing with all his heart that there is something better on the other side, I see a flaw in myself. One that has me wasting time wanting something different that will not make me anymore satisfied than what I have on this side of the door.
Why is it that we long for something more and what we have is rarely enough? We want our houses bigger, our thighs smaller, our electronics faster and our lives slower. If we can just take a vacation or get that job or find a best friend or the perfect hair color we would feel happier. We try to claw our way through one door just to turn around and want back inside, because maybe that was better after all. I’m learning to look away from the “closed” door, find what I need on this side. Maybe someone did drop a whole sandwich in here and I missed it because I was too busy staring at the door leading outside.
There is actually a very small window that works for me of not being too busy, but having purpose; of not feeling uncomfortably stuffed, but having enough to eat. Do I really want more house to clean or too much time to sit on the beach alone? In reality no, I want a balance of these things. In the Bible, Philippians 4:12 says something like, learn to be content when you have too little or when you have too much. There always seem to be spiritual issues when we go through struggles, but surprisingly, at least for me, there are just as many issues when we have everything we (think) we want. Whatever side of the door you find yourself on you will have a constant when you look outside of your physical surroundings for contentment and peace.
When I’m struggling through a valley, I just want out of the valley. I want the pain to stop, I want to feel the sun, but I’m usually in deep prayer during these times, depending on God in a desperate way that makes me not totally fall on my temporal helps like family, friends, money, doctors and my comforts. I look to the Lord and build my spiritual stamina like no other time. On the other side of that door, the one full of comfort, peace and light, in my case - coffee, scones, laughter with friends and days at the beach - when all is well; that’s when I can forget that I need a Savior. I can drift from the reality that it’s not about making myself comfortable or happy and this is a dangerous place to linger too long.
There is this really interesting proverb in the Bible where the author asks some things of the Lord. He says don’t make me either rich or poor, but give me just enough for each day. This gives me pause. Apparently, there must be a sweet spot spiritually where we want to live, enough but not too much. Of course this isn’t just with finances and provisions, but with busyness and relationships and work. We seem to be thrown off balance when we have affluence and when we have need. What this prayer in Proverbs 30:7-9 is asking of the Lord is something in the middle, an ease or peace which flows into thankfulness. I’m trying to be at ease in the room I’m in and not standing with my nose pressed to the door wanting something more or different. What this looks like for me is saying this is enough right now in my season of life. Not comparing myself or striving to have everything or be everything. Not saying yes to all opportunities that cross my path. Deciding what is important to me: time spent in devotion, time with family and friends, work I love (like writing this blog) which means not making as much money or getting as many publishing credits, not being part of things that sound really cool, but would spread me too thin. Stepping away from the door!
Write about ways you feel as if you have your nose pressed to the door, wanting something different instead of focusing on where you are.
Journal about what not having too much or too little looks like in your life. Are you too busy? Are you lacking in relationships?
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