Closed Doors

I’m no longer staring at closed doors, wishing/hoping/praying for them to open. Not all doors are meant to be opened anyway.

I have come to understand, closed doors don’t mean the end. Sometimes we waste so much time staring at the closed door – longing for it to reopen – that we miss out on the open doors that are right before us.

Guilty. I can sometimes be this way. Not necessarily out of a longing – more of a need to understand. I’ve been described as an: A, B, C – kind of person, so when things go from A – F without hitting the steps in between, I don’t know what to do with that.

I will agree to a point. It isn’t that all things must be sequential. I’m a single-mom of three, nothing ever goes quite as I expect or plan. Still, there are moments/situations, that I simply cannot understand. That’s when I find myself stuck.

I encountered a situation, not so long ago, that ordinarily would have threatened to undo me. However, I quickly realized that the door must truly be shut, because it had no effect on me. Save the initial shock of hearing a familiar voice in my voice messages.

Although I wasn’t the one to shut the door, I must admit I cannot allow it to reopen. There is still love there, but even love does not mean intentionally allowing the other party to inflict pain.

So, now, more than ever, I am convinced, some doors are meant to be – and stay – closed.

*Original Image*