The door

The door

There was me
Trying to get through
That door
The one marked the next step
I was bumping my head on the mantle
Catching my pockets on the door handle
The hinges were stiff and it
was if they were fighting back
As the door opened only a crack
I gave up
Maybe that one’s not for me?
As looked around
I saw many a door marked opportunity
Some tall and grand
some small and humble
Some in need of a coat of paint,
But all waiting to be entered
But which one would fit me
Which one should to choose?
I excitedly went straight for one of them posh doors,
You know they have them in hotels office blocks and at Morrisons down the road
I entered, pushed against it
The door span round and spat me out
Only to dump me in a heap with my rucksack of guilt troubles and woes
In the road where I began
Then as I brushed my self off set my glasses straight
I was this door
It was , kind of, well you know
Not grand, nowt fancy but say at the end of the street
A straight road passed through it
When I took a closer look above the mantle a notice was carved
First I thought it was the door number or the name of the street
The letters carved out from an old piece of cross
It said
“I am the door: by me if anyone enters in they shall be saved!
I don’t know, but as I entered
My rucksack of problems lightened
My pockets full of questions seemed to be answered
My shoes no longer heavy burdened tripping me up trying to go different ways
At at the door was the door keeper, took my burdens away
Allowed me to keep
Life’s decisions. And promised to show me the way
He promised to be with
me every step of the way
So when the fog of indecision clouds my mind
And many a door opens before me
I have the confidence He will be there in the doorway beckoning His way
 
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