September 19, 2010 - Psalm 84:10 - Doorkeeper

"For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God
than live in the tents of wickedness."

The Doorkeeper’s Lament

By

Phoenix MaryGrace Hocking


Narrow the door is, like the eye of a needle, and few there are that find it, no matter how lustily I call and wave my arms. I can shout or I can whisper, it makes no difference. The world passes by unseeing, unknowing, not wanting what lies on the other side.
It’s not that the door is all that difficult to find. It’s right here in plain sight. It stands on every street corner, in every church, in every bar, in every bedroom. It stands high on the hills, and down in the gutters. The door stands open, ready, waiting. And I stand at the door, calling, calling, calling.
No, the door is not difficult to find. It’s just that there are other doors so much more attractive, more numerous, not to mention wider. Doors surrounded by bright lights and neon signs, doors that promise wealth and success, pleasure and ease, even doors that promise service in the great army of God. The wide paths leading to these wide doors are bordered with flowers and beautiful statuary.
Ah, but the path that leads to this door, well, that’s another story. This path is rocky and flanked with thorn bushes. It is a lonely path, a path meant for single-file, unlike the wide paths that lead to wide doors that swallow whole groups of souls with barely a burp.
No, this path is so narrow it requires those who walk it to leave everything behind, possessions and people alike. And what modern person in his right mind would willingly choose such a path, when others stand beckoning on either side for miles around? Why, a camel with its pack could not enter this door; only a single soul, naked and bare may enter, and who wants that?
Some find the door in their youth and walk right in. For others, the search takes a lifetime and some only find it at the very last second. Either way, the door stands open and ready to receive; all that is required is acceptance of the Gift offered.
Ah, but sometimes it seems a lonely job, this, but not a thankless one. For occasionally, someone hears my call. Someone stops his mad rush towards the wider door and pauses to listen. This someone listens for that still, small voice, the voice that says, “Come. Come unto Me. Come.” And that someone turns and, ignoring the gaping maws that promise success and pleasure, this person chooses the rocky path, the narrow path, the thorny path.
You see, as Doorkeeper, I know what is on the Other Side of the door, both this door and the others. Wide are the paths that lead to the wide doors that lead to emptiness. Attractive and pleasant and beautiful are they, until you get inside and find all is darkness.
The good news is that those doors swing both ways. Some who enter discover that all that glitters definitely is not gold, and somehow manage to find their way back out again. It happens; it happens. Not often enough to suit me, but it happens.
Sometimes they choose another wide door, and another, and another, until finally, exhausted and empty, they sit at the roadside and cry.
And their Father hears their cry; He always does. He hears and He answers, and He shows them the narrow path that leads to the narrow door. And sometimes, sometimes, they hear and they listen and they follow.
It’s a rocky path, flanked with thorn bushes, and sometimes a person starts on the path and gives up. They turn around and go back to the wide doors, the easy paths. And then I cry, because if they had only continued on, they would have found the door that leads to Life.
And sometimes, oh sometimes, a person picks his way along the rocky path, and braves the thorns and suffers through the scrapes and bruises and pains until he or she stands before the narrow door, naked and bleeding and empty.
That is when my job as Doorkeeper becomes a position of pure and utter joy. For then I can wrap this weary soul in a robe, white as snow, and put My arm around him, or her, and say, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord.”
Blessings, Phoenix