Revolving Doors

I have this fear of revolving doors. It didn’t begin until my teen years. Once at an event, there were masses of people around me trying to exit all at once. Funny how time causes details to lapse. I cannot remember when or where, just that there were a few sets of revolving doors wherever I was. With so many people around me, I got stuck in the middle. I kept trying to scoot out, but more and more people kept entering and I ended up wandering around the door in circles until I finally was able to elbow my way out.

Maybe it is a little funny. Caught in the moment, however, it was only frustrating. I was panicked. To this day, I will do just about whatever it takes to avoid having to walk through a revolving door. There is just something about it that scares me. It’s not the moving of the door, but the fact that I can see where I want to go, but can’t get there because there are too many people in the way.

 I’ve often wondered about the whole concept of God opening and closing doors. Perhaps I allow fears to get in the way of His plan when the door He chooses is a revolving door. Sometimes it is. Sometimes the door He opens is revolving. You can choose to use it as an entrance or an exit. You can rush through it, or you can take your time. You can allow others to enter it with you. And you can allow others to keep you stuck in the door frame, just walking around in circles.

The worst part about being stuck in a revolving door is that you often allow yourself to be stuck. You will find yourself completely surrounded and being pushed in circles. This happens so easily when you are working for God. There is an open door in the church, a need, a vacancy, another room to clean, another song to learn, another message to teach, another person to touch, another prayer, another, another, another…

You can become so focused on the jobs at hand that you don’t realize the door before you, that was once just an open opportunity, is now revolving, with other people who are also busy entering and exiting. And you get pushed into a corner because you don’t feel like fighting to get out. Sometimes it is easier to just walk in circles. Sometimes, you become weary in well doing. Before you know it, your open door has become a revolving list of things to do, people to see, tasks to complete and people to satisfy instead of an opportunity to step closer to Him.

I am somewhat obsessed with Galatians 6:9, “Let us not become weary in well doing…”

My entire life has been a racetrack toward burnout. I was raised to fill every hole in the church. If there wasn’t a drummer, I played. If there was a stain, I cleaned. If there was no Sunday School teacher, I taught, etc., etc., etc.. And at the time, I thought I was doing my diligent service. I was never truly frustrated because I enjoy working for God. I love to serve.

I didn’t even notice when I became so focused on what I was doing that I began dismissing Who I was doing it for. The object of my actions became the physical church, satisfying people instead of projecting my well doing to the One who loves me unconditionally.

Wow. Unconditional love. It is hard to imagine. How could someone who knows my every thought, action, hope and failure love me unconditionally? For every time He has stood for me, I have failed him many times over. And yet He still loves me.

God loves me. He loves you. He sees everything. He knows your hurts. He knows your scars. He knows your accomplishments. He knows the desires of your heart. He knows when you give your best and even better, that is all He wants from you. He wants your best. He doesn’t want what other people think is your best. He wants your best.

That’s where we get messed up. We focus so much on what other people think is our best. It’s how we get stuck in revolving doors. Instead of walking through them, we let too many people get involved. We allow other’s opinions to keep us walking in circles. We become obsessed with our lists of things we believe we have to do. But guess what? God only wants our best. He does not want our expectations to be based on what we believe everyone else expects.

By “we,” I definitely am talking to myself. I am guilty, absolutely, of allowing myself to get so involved in pleasing others that it becomes impossible to give my best to Him. I have spread myself so thin at times that I do become weary in well doing. And it gets easier and easier to just walk in circles instead of right through the very door that I have often travailed would open in the first place.

So here I am. Facing another open door. Only this time, I have made it my mission to never become so involved in well doing that I become weary. Psalm 100:2 says, “Serve the Lord with gladness. Come before Him singing with joy.”

It doesn’t say just to serve the Lord. It says serve the Lord… with gladness. It doesn’t say to come before Him just singing. It says come before Him singing… with joy. There is a joy that overtakes you in the presence of God. When you are crippled by an intense need to satisfy others along your journey, becoming weary in well doing, that joy becomes harder and harder to feel. Joy that disappears requires something to fill it’s place. That is when fear creeps in. Fear of displeasing people. Fear of failure. Fear of hurt. Fear of rejection. Fear of not being enough.

The doors He opens and closes, revolving or not, are never things to fear. He loves us unconditionally. Our best is enough for Him. His plans for our lives are perfect. His timing is impeccable, even when it does not coincide with our ideas of time. For all of the moments I have prayed for God to open the right doors and close the wrong ones, I have learned to not be afraid.

“I have chosen you and have not rejected you. So do not fear; do not be dismayed, for I am your God,” Isaiah 41:9.

He has chosen me. When I feel the sting of rejection from people, He has not rejected me. I have nothing to fear where His love is concerned. He is my God and I will serve Him with joy. Whatever doors He closes, I will be thankful. Whatever doors He opens, I will walk through. Without fear. With gladness and joy.

Advertisement