The stage crew that creates scenery for every production amazes me. Year after year they construct staircases, and parlors with wainscot. They have a history of building doors, which promotes the illusion of entrances and exits. One year the door got jammed in a performance and the actor improvised by walking around. I loved it. 

 

Yet the theater has limited storage. After closing night everything is broken down and tossed in a dumpster. Only a few pieces are saved. 

 

In church this week the topic was doors. One of the lingering free standing entrances from back stage served as a prop. The minister told us that he had already passed through twenty seven doors that morning, including the ones in his home, his car, the office, going back for a forgotten item, and the venue where church happens. Most of us were not paying attention but perhaps we racked up double digit numbers as well. 

 

The Lord describes himself as an entryway, one that is perpetually open. There are no circumstances in which access to Him is denied. As someone who crosses my fingers when I type in a password I find this reassuring. But part of the onus is on us as well. Out of ultimate respect for our freedom, God does not barge into our lives uninvited.