The Doors Lesson

Granada, Nicaragua is a beautiful colonial Spanish town whose streets are lined with brightly painted walls and doors that open to invite you to relax in the flowering courtyards, homes of families, and unexpected surprises. Every time I am in Granada I’m always taken back by the beauty of the doors, by the intrigue they arouse in me, by their stories and by their secrets.

Few of these doors are Pristine with their elegant craftsmanship, smooth surface and beautifully stained wood. The rest, fall into two categories; Weathered and Abandoned. The Weathered doors are still beautiful and have a lot of character. Their paint is slightly worn at the bottom where one might place their feet to hold it open while their arms are full of their hard day’s work. They have a wonderment to them that makes one want to study it a little further. To see the life it has lived and hear the stories that it guards.

Yet, these were not the doors I fell in love with. No, I fell in love with the Abandoned. The ones whose wood was splintered from top to bottom; ones displaying their many layers of paint; ones with rusted iron ornate gates that once were their glory; ones with missing pieces that gives you a whisper of what once was; ones with locks that now have rusted. The beauty of these doors made me stop and stare as I studied their every splinter. As I tried to fall asleep, the last night in Granada, I couldn’t get these Abandoned doors out of my mind.

Then God taught me something amazing. These doors are like our hearts. The Pristine don’t appear to need anything at all. They are just beautiful yet I wasn’t very intrigued by them. This is my heart when I try to come before The Healer of Broken Hearts, with all my ducks in a row and try to hide any of the hurt that may be holding itself three or four inches within. This is my heart when I think I don’t need or want His help. With the Pristine, The Healer can’t do anything because the heart believes it is Pristine.

The Weathered need some touch-ups but are still functioning. This is my heart when I know I am in need of help but I allow my pride say “well I’m still functioning so I’ll just keep on doing, besides I don’t have time to deal with it all.” It’s my heart when I half-heartedly come before the Healer of Broken Hearts and allow Him to deal with the superficial and then go about my day. This is my heart when I know I need His help but I’m scared to take it and so I just ignore Him, all the while becoming more and more weathered. With Weathered, The Healer can only mend the outward symptoms because the heart believes it can Weather the rest alone with an occasional Healer visit.

Then there’s Abandoned. The name says it all. It looks like it is of no use and should just be discarded and replaced. One may not even notice it when they walk by yet The Healer of Broken Hearts notices Abandoned. This is my heart when I decide to take down all the false pretenses and bare all my wounds and aches to The Healer. I even bare the parts that I have tried to protect with barbed wire. I become real and tell The Healer that I’m afraid to let Him work in those protected areas but I ask Him to help undo the barbed wire. I cry out to Him through the splinter wood that show what once was and now what’s left. I show Him the holes that are left and I feel vulnerable and at times hopeless. With Abandoned, The Healer is able to restore and transform what appears hopeless into an awe inspiring masterpiece.

Abandoned had a little hole in her left bottom corner that consumed my thoughts. All night I wondered what secret would be exposed if one just took the time to get on their knees and look.

I went back to Abandoned to take a picture of its secret. I expected it would be darkness or the skeleton of what once was. I was joyfully surprised. At first your eyes saw the darkness of loneliness hurts and fears that fills the mysterious room. A little deeper in, there awoke a beautiful field full of sunlight and blue sky that whispers of the budding Hope deep within. The Hope, that only The Healer of Broken Hearts could bring. Abandoned, in all her vulnerability, gives The Healer the hopeful field for Him to build His most beautiful masterpiece for He will never leaver her Abandoned.

Perhaps Abandoned may never look like Pristine but she would never trade in her dancing colors of paint through the seas of splinters, barbed wire and rust that are tender reminders of The Healer’s work as He cultivates the rich Hope filled soil that awakes in the depth of her heart.