Answer the Door
John Telgren

He walked up the sidewalk from the street to the front porch. He wondered just how she would react. He noticed that all of the shutters were closed as well as the door. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked around the yard. Nicely manicured. One of the most well kept on the block. The hedge was trimmed and sculpted perfectly, like something you might find in an art gallery. The paint and trim on the house was perfect. He knew that what was outside was nothing like what was on the inside. There had been several domestic disturbance calls. Even though everything looked like a postcard, there seemed to be an invisible dark cloud over the property.

He remembered talking to the owner many times on the porch. Polite surface conversation. Nothing more. A few times she shared some of the struggles she had raising her kids. They spent some times together downtown for lunch. He walked around to the side. No one there. She had called him to come over, but it looked as if no one was home. He walked around the back. The back looked just like the front.

"Hello?" He called out. Nothing. He continued around the other side. It didn't appear that anyone was around, but he could hear movement on the inside. What if they were in trouble? He didn't want to force his way in. That just was not his style. His specialty was helping people, not forcing them to do something against their will. He rounded the last corner back to the front. Surely she knew he was here. After all, she called him. But in order for him to do any good, it would talk more than just calling him. It would take more than him standing in front of the house.

He stood for a moment, studying the front door. He slowly made his way up the walk, up the stairs, and onto the front porch. The porch swing was still moving, as if someone had just recently been sitting on it. Maybe she saw him coming and changed her mind. He stopped right in front of the door. He reached out his hand. "Knock - knock - knock."

He stood and waited. He had stood in the spot many times before. He remembered the last time he was here. He stood there for nearly fifteen minutes. He could hear movement inside, but no one came to the door. They hushed and waited for him to leave. Would she open the door and let him into their lives? He wanted so dearly for her to invite him in. Instead of a little advice from time to time, he could truly change her life, and the lives of her children. He reached out his hand again. "Knock-knock-knock." He knew that the time would come when the house would be destroyed, unless they transferred ownership to him. It would take more than just standing on the front porch. He needed access to every single room inside. But the doors of her heart stayed stubbornly locked.

"Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me (Rev 3:20)".