The Door

    I am planning on posting the rest of The Value of All, but I have decided to do some editing on the second part (something which I haven't gotten around to yet) since I did not like it very well.  So, I decided to post (I think) the best story that I have ever ritten.  This story will also fulfill the challenge that I posted last month. :) 

    The verse that goes along with this story is:  Song of Soloman 8:4 I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, until he please.

          I balanced a garland of flowers on my head and laughed up into the rays of sunshine.  The sky was a clear, deep blue unmarred by any clouds.  Joy seemed to spring out of it and swallow me up.  I twirled as I laughed again, my voice echoing out across the field.  As I spun, laughter, from a different voice, echoed back.

          He was here, striding across the meadow, light shining from His face. 
          My child. 
          The words did not need to be spoken.  I was His.  I would always be His.  As He came up beside me I slipped my small hand into His big one. 
          Come. 
          Tall grass whipped about my knees as I walked along beside Him.  Ahead of us, a small grove of trees grew larger and larger as we neared it.  My heart pounded.  Many times had I gazed at this place and dreamed about what resided within.  He had told me He would one day show me what was in it; that day had come. 
          It was cool beneath the branches of the trees, and the grass still carried traces of dew.  Birds flew about my head, singing songs of happiness.  It was all so beautiful.  Then I saw it.  A door.  It was clear like glass with a golden handle. 
          “Where does it lead?” my voice rose with excitement. 
          He looked at me, His eyes deepening with love.  “That is something you will not know until you open it.”
          “May I open it?”
          “You must have a key.”
          I looked back at the door and realized He was right.  “Where is the key?”
          He did not answer; instead He pressed something hard and cold in my hand:  the key.  I eagerly fingered it, then took a step towards the door.
          “It is not time.”
          Those quiet words halted my steps.  I looked at Him, confused.  “Then why did you give me the key?  Why did you show me the door?”
          He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.  “There is a reason.  But it is one I cannot tell you yet.”  He leaned close, His eyes tender.  “One day it will be time to open the door, but until that day, do not enter it.  Wait for me.  Trust me.” 
          Love for Him welled up in my heart.  I threw my arms about Him.  “I will wait.”

                                                                   ˜  

           I sat quietly in the tall grass fingering the precious key.  It had been several years since He had given it to me, yet it had never lost its beauty.  And never once had I forgotten about it.  I would often place my hand over the small, leather pouch that I carried it in to reassure myself that it was still there.

          My child. 
          The voice rang in my ears.  My heart leapt as I whirled and ran towards the approaching figure.  “Is it time?”  I asked breathlessly, my heart thumping with excitement.
          “Not yet.  Come, follow me.”
          I looked away, trying to hide the disappointment on my face.  When I looked back I saw He was looking at me, sorrow in His eyes.  Shame washed over me.  He had told me to trust Him. 
          Together we walked out of the field, through a stand of trees, and into another field.  However, unlike the one I had just been in, this one was filled with other girls.  They too carried pouches like mine. 
          “Do they have keys as well?”
          “Yes.”
          “Do I get stay here with them?”
          “Yes.”
          My eyes shone with joy.  How wonderful it would be being able to wait with so many girls.  I would no longer be alone. 
          I looked at Him and smiled. 

˜  

 
          “Hey!”
          I turned and looked at the girl calling to me.
          She ran up to me and grinned, “When are you going to show it to me?”
          “Show what?”
          “Your key.  I’ve seen everyone’s but yours.”
          I hesitated.  No one had seen my key but Him.
          “Come on.  Please?”
          I firmly shook my head. 
          “Oh, you are no fun,” she pouted.  But within moments a smile lit her face, “Have you heard that one of the girls has gone through her door?”
          “Really?”  Hope rose within me.  Perhaps my day would arrive soon.
          “Yep.  And guess what,” she leaned close and whispered, “She went without Him saying she could.” 
          I paled.  “B-but no one is supposed to go through their door until it is time.”
          “Seriously, do you still hold on to that idea?” she rolled her eyes, “Listen, all the girls here have already given up on Him knowing the proper timing.  I mean, seriously, think about it.  How many girls have gone through their doors since you got here?”
          “Um,” I frowned trying to remember, “maybe one.”
          “Exactly!  If you want to go through your door, you had just better go on through.  Because if you are waiting for Him to tell you it is time, it isn’t going to happen.”
          I stared at her.  How could she say such a thing? 

˜  

 

          I was alone.  I slowly sank down to the ground and buried my face in my hands.  All the other girls had gone through their doors.  Each one had announced resolutely that there was no reason to wait.  Even though I had resisted what they said, my resolved was crumbling.
          “Where are you?” I groaned softly, tears coursing down my cheeks.
          My child. 
          I froze.   It was Him.  He stood in front of me, His eyes tender. 
          The words sputtered out of my mouth, “I-Is it time?” 
          He looked at me for a long moment and sadness filled His eyes.  “Not yet.”
          “What?” I slowly stood to my feet, rage building within me.  How could He say this?  “I have waited for years and years.  All the other girls have left.  Why haven’t they gotten in trouble?  Why do you just stand aside and watch them go through that door?  They haven’t suffered any consequences!  In fact, some of them have come back through the door and have come told me how wonderful it is on the other side!”  My voice rose with anger.  “I don’t understand why you are making me wait here all alone for a day that will never come!”  I turned away, sobs choking my throat. 
          My child.
          “No!  I’m not your child!  I hate you!”
          The words hurt Him.  I could see the pain in His eyes.  But I didn’t care.  I whirled and stalked away from Him.  I wasn’t going to wait any longer. 
          In a few moments I was in the small grove of trees that housed the door.  My door.  I flipped the pouch open and pulled the key out.   The door stood in front of me glistening as brightly as ever.
          I walked up to it and ran my hand over the surface.  Little tingles ran up and down my spine.  What was beyond it?     
          Wait for me.  Trust me. 
          I clamped my eyes shut.  Those words had been said years ago.  He had never meant them.  If He had, He would have already taken me through the door. 
          Why did you give me this key?  Why did you show me this door?  I looked up at it, desire twisting my insides.         
          Wait. 
          I sank to my knees.  Thoughts whirled through my head.  I didn’t understand.  Why? 
          For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways.
          I looked at the key then I looked at the door and I wept.  The tears ran down my face and dropped to the ground.  I was unable to quench their flow.  All my dreams, all my desires, were being trampled into the ground.  I wanted to go through that door.  I had waited my entire life to go through it.  But that was not what he wanted.
          “Please, forgive me.”  The words were barely more than a whisper from a broken soul.
          My child. 
          He stood beside me, love pouring forth from His face.  Then I realized I had never been alone.  He had always been there right beside me, waiting for me to turn and look for Him.           
          Once again I threw my arms around Him.  Then I leaned back and looked into His face.  “Take it.”  I pressed the key into His hand. 
          His eyes warmed and He drew me close. 
                                                                            ˜  

          I stood in the field staring out across the rippling grass.  Around me young girls played.  Over time, more girls had entered the field excited about the day they could enter their door.  The words I had greeted each one with were, “Do not be afraid to wait.”  And so far they had waited.
          “I have something I need to tell you.”
          I turned to the young girl and smiled, “What is it?”
          Her face lit up with joy, “I gave Him my key.”
          I pulled her into a hug, my eyes brimming with tears.
          My child.
          Beyond the girl he stood there, waiting.  His hand was outstretched holding something.  A key.  My key.  The key I had given Him. 
          The little girl pulled out of my hug and squeezed my hand.  “It is your turn now.”
          I looked at her and I looked at Him.
          He nodded. 
          Together we went to the grove.  My door still stood there.  He began to press the key into my hand.  “No,” I refused it, “I want you to open it for me.”
          His eyes grew tender.  “Do you see why I had you wait?”
         “Yes.  I was not ready before.  I am now.  But only if you go with me.”
          He stepped up to the door and inserted the key into the lock.  He pulled the door open and waited for me to step through. 
          I looked at Him and I looked at the door.  Then I gently slipped my hand into His.  Together we walked through the door.