Our baby boy is afraid of the doorbell...
...along with anything else that is loud enough to hear one room away.
Today I was walking in the front door with my two boys when we returned from the gym. Daniel, the baby, was already in. Gabe, 3 years old, was still making his way in from the car. Gabe stopped to ring the doorbell a couple times and Daniel screamed as if his big toenail was being ripped off. Did he fall and hurt himself? Does he have some kind of internal bleeding? No. He was afraid of the doorbell. The Doorbell.
I've been gripped with fear the past two weeks. We are living in a season of fear and insecurity as a nation, but this fear is much closer to home... like...in it. My wife and I are in our 10th year of marriage and it has been the most difficult to date. We are in a rocky stage in the ministry that I lead. And, as most of the rest of the nation, our family's financial foundation is cracked.
I want to fear. I feel like I should worry. But, every time I take it to God, He just returns peace. Don't get me wrong, my face has broken out (as a 35 year old man!) and my teeth hurt from grinding together at night. But, I just have this calmness deep inside.
The obstacles that feel insurmountable day-to-day are simply "doorbells" to Him. We feel defeated by the terrifying bells ringing in our ears. However, God wants to use the ringing as a tool to teach us how to trust! He wants them to be like sound bytes that remind us that He is at the door... knocking... waiting... like the delivery man bearing the package we've been anticipating for so long.
I looked at Daniel and said, "Dude, it's just the doorbell." Then the echoing of God arose from deep within and said to me, "Dude, it's just the doorbell! Chill out."
I'm going to go open the door. When I look out I will see our scattered patches of daffodils that have opened their sleepy eyes this week excited about turning the corner to find the promise of Spring. And I will remember Who clothes them and Who covers them with vivid shades of yellow. I will remember that if he cares so much for the flowers of the field, how much more must He care for me. I think I will then go step into the beautiful garment of Grace prepared especially for me and remember that I haven't purchased it, but it was freely given, even in my state of unworthiness. Then maybe I'll lay down and rest. When I awake, I will know Him more and fear things less. Yeah, that's what I'll do.
Maybe you should go answer your door.
Just a thought...