The Closed Door | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: The Closed Door | Previous Challenge Entry
By Elaine Taylor
08/09/08
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I cannot recall when I first realized that someone was following me. My mind was filled with a jumble of unconnected thoughts: rambling rabbit trails of quick bits of this and that. I was weighed down with the anxious vanity of trying to make sense of it all, the attempts of corralling and focusing the themes and images that flitted through my brain. I paid no attention to where I was or where I was going, so deep was the concentration of my ponderings. I did not realize the darkness that had fallen around me or the fact that I was quite alone.
To say I heard footsteps is quite untrue. I sensed them. They broke upon my conscience much like a solitary housefly buzzing in the window of an otherwise silent room. You don’t notice it at first. All is quiet and then you are aware that that is not the case. There is something else but you cannot put your finger on it until you discover the fly on the glass. Then the sound becomes deafening. That is all you notice.
All at once, I stopped. I quickly turned around, but the footsteps had stopped as well. I peered into the gloom, but saw nothing. I didn’t dare cry out. I did not want to attract attention to myself. I deceived myself in thinking that if I could not see them then surely they could not see me. I held my breath as I resumed my journey. Again, there was the footfall. Not hurried, but patient, purposeful. I had hoped perhaps it was merely the echo of my own feet. I was wrong.
I began to run. Faster and faster, I urged my limbs to lead me to safety. The sound of my wildly beating heart nearly drowned out the sounds of my own ragged breathing and the matched tread behind me. My eyes darted to the left and the right seeking sanctuary. An open doorway appeared before me. Sobbing, I stumbled through, and with shaking hands clumsily locked the door. Utter blackness surrounded me. Not one glimmer of light to be found.
All sound ceased both inside my refuge and beyond the portal. It was not to last. Someone knocked on the door. Not hard and sharp, or soft and muffled. It duplicated the footsteps that had followed me. Patient. Purposeful. Then I heard a voice. “I know you’re in there. Open the door.” I cannot name what compelled me to reach through the darkness and do as the voice bid me. I was exhausted from my seemingly pointless running. My mind was weak and weary from all my fear. I could think of no other option available to me except surrender. So I opened the door.
There stood Jesus.

Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me. Revelation 3:20

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