Jientje's (sounds like Gene-chu's) doors made me feel like grabbing my camera and hiking around the neighborhood in search of photogenic portals. It was 40 degrees yesterday and it was One Day Without Shoes Day, in which, if you missed it, you will have another chance to participate on April 16th...
When you buy a pair of Tom's shoes, Tom's Shoes donates a pair of shoes to somebody who cannot afford to have a pair of any brand of shoes. That's why the shoes are about 55 bucks a pair, but it's for a worthy cause.
...anyway Fash told me not to wear any shoes and I was too wimpy to hike around taking pictures of doors, in the cold, in my bare feet. But I did think a lot about doors.
I thought about this door that I.T. fashioned with his own hands, painted nicely and set into the place where it would permanently live on hinges if it looked okay. But when we stepped back to make our decision about that, it did a Peter Pan into the sink faucet below giving itself a bullet hole to the chest. Caulk and paint. This door now keeps our toothbrushes safe from hairspray mist.
The 40 degree weather reminded me that it is spring in Michigan, which in turn reminded me that it is almost fishing weekend. That's the weekend when the cat goes away and the mice do play. My sister, Fash and I have a garage sale over fishing weekend. One year, shortly after I sold our house while I.T. was at work, I made a colossal mistake over fishing weekend and sold I.T.'s brand new, $100 weedwacker for $1.00 instead of selling the weedwacker that I.T. had found on the side of the road and fixed for free, which was the one he'd donated to the garage sale with a suggested price of $1.00. This led to a lecture the following year, something about no more surprises when dad gets home from fishing weekend.
I didn't place painting the front door into the surprise catagory. But when the boys returned from fishing weekend that year, I.T.'s truck rolled up in front of our house real slow-like.
See, not so bad, right?I guess it's possible that I.T. may have thought the house had new residents. He may have wondered if Fash and I and he and the boys still lived here. Now that would qualify for the surprise catagory. But no. I just painted the front door. That's it.
Thinking of the colossal garage sale mistake, reminded me of the word colosseum, because I was pondering doors. Remember the poor guy whose fate depended on the king's daughter, whether she would give him the cue to choose door #1, behind which waited the beautiful lady, or door #2 where the tiger waited to devour him? How do you feel about stories that end like that? Which door do you think she chose? (Need a refresher on the story, The Lady or The Tiger? Here's a link.)
All this thinking about doors reminded me of something Jesus said: "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened."
I thought about this promise. If I ask the Lord for direction, if I ask the Lord to help me, if I ask the Lord which door? He'll show me The Way. His perfect way. I do not have to worry that he might give me a cue to open the door with the tiger waiting to devour me, because Jesus always has my very best interest in mind and I'm pretty sure that doesn't include me getting eaten by a tiger out of jealous spite. So this is where I stayed my wandering mind. Well, here and on the Tom's shoes. I'm saving up to buy a pair.
