I was walking down a very deserted road. It was dark and still, and the air thick with the scent of moistened soil. The fog felt surreal, and I was alone. There wasn’t anyone to phone or to hold me as I quaked in fear.
The mist was confusing, and I squinted in order to see. My steps were small and cautioned because I was afraid that I would fall. Yet as I walked through this dreamlike state, I knew eventually, I would stumble upon it–I knew it in my gut.
The light from the lamp post shined, making the air look white, and although I was filled with uncertainty of what I’d find, I knew it was time. There was no turning back. I stood before it, my shadow tall. Before me they appeared–massive structures hovering through the universe. Two doors. Two paths to the unknown. Two decisions that would make or break my life. They were identical. The crippling fear of the unknown was larger than life, mocking me and making me think twice.
But which door holds my life, the life that promises joy and love, and freedom from fear and doubt? Which door will redeem me for past indiscretions? Why am I so afraid to choose? What will happen to me if I’m wrong?
My hands shook uncontrollably, and my heart pounded through my chest. Each door was alluring and enticing, yet dangerous enough to cause me death. I took another step forward and then stopped. What if I was incorrect in choosing, what would happen? What would become of me? Would I end up in the pit of hell or shunned by humanity?
“Father,” I cried, louder than I had wanted. “Why am I so afraid to open either door? You offer me two, so one of them must be for the good … but which one, tell me?”
I didn’t get an answer, so I cried out again. “Father, what lies beyond these doors? Why must I choose life or death? Why are you making me decide? If you love me, you would just lead me–you would just tell me which way to go. You are supposed to be helping me, yet now, when I need you the most, all I can see are these two doors. There are no markings, no words of caution, just two doors that I must open. But what if I open one and it has no floor, and I fall through space and time, at speeds that will torment me as I crush in the pits of destruction? Father please! Tell me what to do. What is this going to prove? My heart is good and my intentions are full of love. Can’t you just tell me what lies ahead?”
And then I took another step, and with trepidation, I reached for the knob that belonged to the door on the right. And I was almost there, my hand a fraction of an inch away, when I confusingly turned to look at the other door and reached for that one instead. And as I turned my head from right to left, and then from left to right, I cried at how I was so afraid to know what lied ahead. I knew I had to make the decision and quickly, because the ground that I was standing on was receding, and I could hear the mountains crumbling and smell the molten lava burning the brush, and soon I would not have the safety and security that I always knew.
The sweat was dripping down my temples, and my body trembled involuntarily as I put my hand on the knob once more. And for the last time I cried out louder than I did before and yelled, “Father, I love you. I cannot make my mind choose correctly, so I will have to go on faith. And Father, please understand that if I have chosen the wrong door, then forgive me; I only wanted to do what was right.”
And I held onto the knob with all my might, and looked down at my feet and saw that there wasn’t a ground–nothing but light. My time had come and there was nothing I could do but walk through. And when I crossed the threshold, I opened my eyes and looked–the road was there, and I could smell the moistened grass, and I could hear the peacefulness of the sun rising and see the promise of the future. And I suddenly knew that the only thing that kept me from moving through was my own fear.
Doors are meant to be opened. Thresholds are made to be crossed. If we don’t take chances and grab every opportunity, big or small, we will never know what we are capable of. Our faith in God must be in the fact that He will never let us fall–not even in our darkest hour.