Who Is That Walking Through the Door? | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Who Is That Walking Through the Door? | Previous Challenge Entry
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12/10/07
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“Who is that walking through the door?” As they sat in their pews whispering to one another. This stranger, filthy, covered in ragged clothes and mud on his boots slowly progressed up the aisle as he stained the newly laid carpeting. He had a weathered face and eyes that have seen too much tragedy and strife. “Who is this stranger and why is he here?” They snickered as he shook off the mud and the cold.

This stranger walked in off the street from a blustery winter’s night. Looking for some glimmer of hope with nowhere to go and no one to love, he came to where he thought he should be. An impressive cathedral where many people attend covered in beautiful stained glass. The stranger felt uncomfortably uncomfortable as the leader of the cathedral approached him rather quickly. “I’m sorry, but you don’t belong in here.” Was what the stranger heard as he was being lead back out into the blustery cold. Scolded for his appearance and chastised for staining the carpet he was back out on the street again. The stranger watched helplessly as he watched the cathedral doors swing closed.

Shivering, the stranger quietly lowered his head and began walking out of the town. He walked through the cold, the wind and the mud. The temperature seemingly dropped with every breath he took. Until he found himself away from the cities lights, out of the hustle and bustle of the “normal person’s” life. All of his agony, through all of his pain, all of the blowing, snowing and pain. The stranger dropped to his knees ready to give up, when the stranger quietly whispered to God. “There has to be a purpose, there has got to be more.” And just as the words escaped the stranger’s mouth, the blowing and the snowing ceased to a peaceful winter still. He slowly lifted his head and squinted his eyes, as they focused on a church nestled slightly in the woods. A choir could be heard singing from the distance. It was a sound of joy, harmony and friendship. Something this stranger has been longing for. He marched toward this church in the woods like a moth being drawn to a flame. His strength was renewed and no longer felt his shame. He neared the church doors and put his hand out to open the door, then hesitated and turned away. His mind was still fresh with rejection from earlier. “What if they don’t let me in?” As he was thumbing through his thoughts, he felt a hand on his shoulder. The stranger turned around and saw a man with a genuine smile looking at him. “Would you like to come in and join us?” The man asked. “I would love to, but I don’t think they would appreciate me tracking mud and snow inside the church.” The man just kept smiling and said. “This is just a building, inside is the church.” As they walked in together the singing was even more prominent as the choir was in mid chorus of “Shout to the Lord.” The stranger had never heard or seen anything like this before, such a joyous people celebrating a living God. He took a seat toward the back as the gentleman that invited him in kept walking toward the altar. This man that invited the stranger in was the pastor of this little church in the woods. This stranger was a stranger no longer, finding somewhere to be and many to love and be loved in return.

~The End~

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