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Tuesday September 7,2010

The Other Side of the Door

Continued

I frantically groped for the knob; then remembered there was none. I was momentarily stunned, but anger soon came to my rescue. I began to hammer at the door with my fists. The knob must be on the other side; Someone was bound to hear me. Nobody would keep me from my son. Nobody. In what seemed like another lifetime, I had read King David's chant in the Old Testament: "I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me." David had deeply mourned the loss of his child, but took great comfort in the fact that one day they would be together again. I could not exist on this side of the door if my child was on the other side; therefore, I would go to him! I would hammer my way in. Bargain my way in. Weep my way in. Whatever it took. My knuckles became raw with effort, but I welcomed the pain. It was nothing compared to the pain I felt inside. I would break down this door if it took my last ounce of strength. I continued to pound, to bargain, to weep without response. All too soon, I found myself slumped against the door, physically and emotionally spent.

Wearily, I examined every inch of the door. It was still impenetrable, but in my anguish, I had overlooked the tiny, rectangular window near the top. Or, perhaps it hadn't been there before. Whoever had created the door was surely capable of adding a window whenever He thought the time was right. I straightened up, and peered through the thick, opaque glass. If it had been any thinner or clearer, the light from within would surely have blinded me. As my eyes adjusted, I gaped in wonder. Golden sunlight rippled through a meadow of waving, blue flowers, like the shimmering ebb and flow of ocean waves. Walking toward me without crushing a single petal were two men dressed in white. It wasn't difficult to ascertain the identity of the One; His entire Being was encompassed in brilliant, white light. Neither was it difficult to ascertain the identity of the other, for I would recognize my son anywhere. But, oh! He was so changed. Always handsome, he was now radiant; dazzling. His eyes, almost as vividly blue as the flowers beneath his feet, brimmed with love and compassion. Stretching out his fingers as though to brush away my tears, he spoke with infinite tenderness: "Go back, mom," he said gently, "you can't come with me. I'm a big boy now, and I'm going to be just fine." He turned away and firmly clasped the hand of his beloved new Teacher. Together, they disappeared into the glorious, blue meadow.

I felt an indescribable peace descend upon my heart. I knew my child could be happy in that place. In time, he would undoubtedly welcome me to his kingdom, eager to show off his new friends and share his newfound wisdom and knowledge. When the door without the knob would open for me. In God's time. I could wait. . . now that I knew he was happy!