Push

Have you ever pulled on a door clearly marked “PUSH”?

It’s happened to me more than a few times. I proudly approach a door, extend a hand, and fully expect the desired result. But I get resistance instead. When I pull the handle towards my body, to my embarrassment, the door doesn’t budge. It always catches me off guard, and I quickly glance around to see how many people witnessed the failed attempt. Then, after some hesitation, I correct the problem and proceed on my way.

It’s not a trick. Nobody sets me up. The handle says PUSH all along – in easily visible, capital letters. I’m just not looking. I’m assuming instead.

I hate moments like this - moments where I feel confident that the path I am on is one of predictability and certain victory only to be stopped short by something small and unexpected. The hurdle could be easily overcome, but it catches me off guard and throws a glitch in the perfection I thought was surely mine. I pull instead of push.

It doesn’t matter how I do it. I can pull with pinpoint accuracy and the perfect amount of force; the door still won’t open. I can try all day. It won’t comply. It won’t do what it wasn’t meant to.

Things don’t always go my way. They go the way God chooses. No matter how confident I am in the path I am traveling and the method of transport I am taking, God has ultimate sway over my journey. He chooses whether I will be met with roadblocks or smooth sailing. He decides whether I will proceed with speed or linger for longer. He determines the path, the necessary gear, and the traveling conditions.

Sometimes I may think I have gained a clear understanding of what He wants, and I press on - full force ahead. But I know not. I pull instead of push. I run instead of walk. I stress instead of rest. He stops me. The door doesn’t budge, and I look back. I did it wrong. Maybe I should wait for Him. Maybe I should look for His instructions. Maybe I should stop assuming that I am all-knowing.

I am humbled by the Door.