The Door by Kyle Dunham
I knew who was at the door, this was not the first time He had come to my door. I knew what opening the door might mean, I sat there motionless.
I got up and moved toward my window.
“Maybe if I just do not answer He will go away. Maybe if I just pretend He is not there, everything will just stay the same.”
“He is not going away, come on you know this by now.”
I began to make circles in my room, thinking about what was going to happen if I actually opened that door. The conversation with myself in my head was now in full force.
“You do not know what He wants, why are you so afraid to answer.”
But I did know what He wanted; the signs had been showing themselves for months now.
“He cannot take this from me; it is not His to take.”
I moved toward the door, stopping right before and looking at the picture on my desk. Knowing that picture might be what He is here for, praying with everything in me that it is not. I slowly turned the doorknob and looked up. There He stood, glowing with a light not known by human standards. He did not move a step; all He did was raise His right hand point toward the desk. All my fears come true in one instant, He is pointing toward the picture of her and I. I walked over to the desk but collapse to the ground before I can get there. The tears are flowing faster than I can wipe them away. I refused to make any more movement toward the desk. He walked inside and moved past me and picked up the picture. As He walked by me again He reached down and wiped my cheek of the tears. In what seems like an instant He is out the door and gone. I sat there stunned for what seems like a month, and then I got up and walked over to my couch.
“It is his fault! He was there when he was not supposed to be. He convinced her I did not truly love her. This has all ended because he went behind my back and tried to steal her from me!”
I ranted and raved and rambled as time kept passing around me. I stayed mad at him as the leaves turn. As I looked outside at the trees becoming bare, something inside of me turned.
“It is not his fault; he is not the one who ended it! She ended it; she is the one who broke my heart! She is going to pay for what she did to me; I am going to make sure she knows how much she hurt me.”
I made every effort to hurt her even as the first snow fall came from the sky. As I sat there by the fire, another night filled with tears and hurt. I heard a voice fill the room.
“My son My son, why have you let the sun go down on this anger?”
I looked around the empty room, wiping the tears away. I stood, trying to see where the voice has come from.
“Why do you take this anger out on the ones who are not in control? My son My son, why are you angry?”
I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts.
“WHY AM I ANGRY?!? WHY?!? I am angry because You took her from me. I loved her with my entire heart and You just took her from me. What is wrong with You, I thought You loved me.”
“My son, I love you more than you will ever understand, but why do you not love me?”
I fell to the ground in a heap.
“I know you loved her My child, and it hurt Me to take her away. I am jealous for your heart My son. I want you to love Me the way you loved her.”
It all hit me at once.
“You did not take her away because You wanted to hurt me. You took her away because You wanted my heart. You did this because You loved me.”
I stood and raced to the door, not caring if I knocked things over on the way. I threw the door open and there He stood again. This time with His arms wide open as I ran to fall into His embrace.
© Kyle Dunham
Kyle James Dunham is a follower of Jesus Christ first and foremost, his life is a constant story in which he aims to have things written that glorify my King. He is 21 years old and has been writing poetry since he was 15, and short stories for just over a month. He can be contacted at email@example.com and look for my blog coming soon.