“I am sorry I ran from you. I am still running, running from that knowledge, that eye, that love from which there is no refuge. For you meant only love, and love, and I felt only fear, and pain. So once in Israel love came to us incarnate, stood in the doorway between two worlds, and we were all afraid.” Annie Dillard
Some doors in our lives remain forever closed and locked. No key, no admittance, no way in, no way out. There is clarity in a locked door and no choices to be made. When there is a choice, that is when I tend to run away scared.
The locked door is both invitation and opportunity when the key is handed to me. I am forced into making a choice. Do I lose the key and stay put where things are familiar? Do I knock and politely wait for the door to be answered? Do I simply watch for the moment it happens to open, take a peek and decide whether or not to enter? Or do I boldly put the key in and walk through?
The invitation is as plain as the key resting in my trembling hand.
For unto us a child is born, a son is given. The door has been opened.
Hankerings 