The Door was Always Open

Tomorrow I am going to the closing for the sale of my Aunt’s house. I am the trustee of her estate so I will be the one signing the papers.

Today, her son brought me the keys to this house so I could give them to the new owner.

I was surprised at how strange it felt to have, for the first time in my life, a key to my Aunt’s house.

I guess I didn’t know she even had a key. The door was always open. I could walk into her house at anytime, unannounced.

I grew up on a farm. We didn’t have a key to our house either.

We did have a telephone.  It was a party line.  Our number was 4F2211.  That meant when there were two short rings followed by two long rings we would answer.

But no one wasted time on the phone to ask if they could come over. They just came.

Now no one goes anywhere without having mutually secured the time in our smart phones.

It will feel like a loss to turn these keys over tomorrow.

It won’t be a loss of keys. It will be the loss of a culture where dropping in was not an intrusion. It will be the loss of a community of belonging.

Are doors meant to lock people out or to invite people in?

What was God telling us when He tore the curtain from top to bottom?

I’m glad I have a picture of what an open door looks like.

It will be sad to bring a key to the closing. The key does not fit in the story.

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