Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.
I can feel the tendrils of depression wrapping around the essence of my heart. My mind. My soul. What is wrong with me?
I'm reading inspirational blogs of fellow Christians, who encourage me. I'm keeping up with my daily Bible study. I'm praying for others. Where are you, Jesus?
I'm at my wit's end. At this blog, I purport to be an inspiration to others, yet I'm feeling lost. Frustrated. Floundering in the faith. I'm weary, tired, doubting. How, Lord, can I go on?
Seeking respite from the negative noise and chatter in my head, I retreat to our deck, hoping that the greenery and calm of the forest surrounding me will grant me peace. Let me know that God is present, even when my feelings overwhelmingly strive to convince me otherwise.
And then, I hear it.
The unmistakable chime of an Avon bell. Seriously! I'm floored and flabbergasted. In my heart, I know Jesus stands at its door, waiting for me to welcome Him in where only He can deliver the solace I need.
I hastily reenter the house and ask my husband, "Danny, did you just hear a doorbell?"
"No," he replies, regarding my statement with genuine surprise. "Why would you think that?"
"I heard one," I insist. "I promise you, I did!"
This prompts Danny to recall that evening when we were still caring for his mother, and a week before she passes, we both hear the ring of a bell. Something we cannot explain in rational terms, but an event we can most definitely corroborate. We take it, at the time, as a sign from the Lord that Mimi is nearing the end.
And years before this, when Danny gallantly offers to take my beloved dog, Maggie, to the vet for one last time, I'm in such grief that I escape yet again to our deck. There isn't a breath of wind, but the wind chimes hanging above me strike one gentle note. I'm sure it's God telling me that Maggie has passed on to the Rainbow Bridge.
When I have been beside myself with worries and sorrows, Jesus stood, and still stands, at the door of my heart, knocking or ringing the doorbell, asking me to let Him in once again. He longs to assure me that He is ever present, and will never let me down.
Nor will He let you down, dear friends, no matter what depths of despair or hopelessness you may be feeling in the moment.
Listen for that knock on your door, that bell to ring.