“When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.” – Maria von Trapp, The Sound of Music
For weeks now, I had been preparing myself. Convinced in my unhappiness and frustration, I was getting ready to let go and start all over again in a new place, among new people, as daunting as that may seem. And by God’s grace, a new window of opportunity was opened, and I was given that chance to start over.
But the chance did not come without its doubts. I didn’t know how much I wanted it, or if I wanted it for the wrong reason: a means to escape from my current lot in life, no matter how attached I still was to it. I was afraid that once I shut the door to my present and turned it into the past, and leaped through the window to a future I didn’t know how much I wanted, I would come to regret that decision, after which both door and window would be latched, shut to me forever.
And then, as though He were responding to my hesitation at the windowsill, even as the smoke and the ashes continued from the bridges I had begun to burn, another door opened, a small one newly carved into the door I had been longing to close. The force of it, and perhaps said attachment that I still felt, drew me back from the window and towards the door again, and once more I knew I was about to sell my soul back to the Devil for the comfort and familiarity of a station I had come to love.
“So, you’re giving them a second chance then?” Greg asked at one point.
On the contrary, it felt as though I had been given another chance. Another chance to prove my self-worth, to pull myself out from under this alternate form of slavery and come into my own, and to prove to myself that I could be less of a weakling and not turn my coat at the slightest hint of dissatisfaction.
Either way, I have shut the window to the temporary freedom I craved, and entered back through the new, albeit small, door to my reformation. And when the time comes for me to escape again, so help me God.