Lately I’ve had to deal with some closed doors in my life.
Not the ones that slam shut with a thunderous clap that hits you with an atomic force. No, these doors have closed quietly, with a softness that creates a vacuum enshrouding your heart, slowing pressing in until you forget to breath… and you watch with confusion as your plans bleed out.
If you get past the circumstances, and look closely, you will see the pattern carved into the door. The cross. The Cross.
Today I am grateful and filled with thanksgiving for closed doors. Doors God has chosen to keep locked for reasons known only to Him. Doors that remind me to keep looking to the Cross. Doors closed in spite of my fervent prayers… doors that, in His infinite love and mercy, have not been opened to me.
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