“Oh come on!” I silently thought, hammering on a screwdriver inserted in the old hinge of the bathroom door. All I wanted to do was place a door stop in the hinge, replacing the one near the floor that was falling out. “Should be easy enough,” or so I thought. Of course, the hinge pin would not budge. No surprise really, for it has probably rested in that very spot since this home was built in the 1980’s. Definitely “set in its ways,” I would say.
My husband and I have learned through much trial and error that sometimes things break. There comes a time when hammering should cease lest irreparable damage occurs, and one finds a gentler approach more prudent. This seemed to be one of those times, and so (undefeated I might add) I withdrew. The hinge would rest for now. The task would be addressed again, later.
So I muse this Easter those locked doors of my heart, places within that I am want to open when Christ comes gently knocking. I have never known Him to hammer, though He has allowed experiences I have gone through and events of the world to hammer me. Still, He has always come to me as Savior and Shepherd, to rescue, guide, nourish, redeem, all the while being the only One Who after three very dead days in the grave, arose alive again and spoke with hundreds of witnesses after His amazing Resurrection.
How easily in our everyday lives we forget, letting those locked places in our hearts become even so like tombs. Tombs where we need our own resurrection, yet because of fear, shame, having learned how to navigate our rut, we stay tucked away inside, avoiding the light that would set us free.
It is insidious how those inner tombs are built, so slowly over time that we hardly notice them confining us. Much like Eckhart Tolle’s “painbody” concept, we hide painful experiences away, waiting to face them another day—or not—until built up inside are a body or bodies of pain. Enter the oyster who has been created with a mechanism to automatically protect itself from those hurtful invasions. It encapsulates the offending grain of sand when it occurs, entombs it into a thing of ultimate beauty, the pearl.
Unlike the oyster, however, our pain is healed when it is brought out of hiding into light. Not just any light, for there are various “lights” beaconing us to follow, but to the light of the One who created us, the Light of the world, the One whose light overcame the darkest darkness of all, death itself, and Who knocks gently on the tombs of our souls asking, “Would you be healed?” May He bless and heal each of us and all we hold dear as we celebrate the glorious Resurrection that brings hope to this hurting world. And give each of us courage to open the doors of our tombs to Him! He is alive, and calling each of us into relationship with Himself!
Jeremiah 29:13 (NKJV) 13 And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.
Revelation 3:20 20 Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.
Psalm 91:15 15 He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will deliver him and honor him.
Dew Upon The Arbor 