Doors

I just finished reading John Ortberg's "All the Places To Go... How Will You Know?". I probably bought the book 18 months back when I was thinking about my career. There was the option to take redundancy or continue to stay with the firm that I had worked with for more than 10 years. If I took redundancy, should I take some time off? If so, for how long? If I didn't, when would I have the chance to do it? If I jump straight into another role, would I be missing something? You can see why a book with that title made a lot of sense.

When the time came to make the decision, I made it quickly. I couldn't see myself retiring in the firm and it was time to try something different. The job market wasn't great, so it felt risky to take a career break and risk not having a suitable job to come back to. I know, it seems counter-intuitive as far as career breaks were concerned. By God's grace a suitable role came along, and I accepted the offer. There wasn't time to read the book and ponder what big things may be in store for me. I left it on my bedside table.

Last year, when I started on chemo, I stuck the book into my knapsack in case I needed something to read. I wasn't really thinking; if I did, would I be reading a book with this caption on the front cover "God has place before you an open door. What will you do?" Cancer and chemo doesn't quite fit the picture of an open door. And the back cover is equally uplifting: "God has an amazing adventure planned for you. All you need to do is walk through the door. And who knows? You just might do something that lasts for eternity." The book remained in my knapsack throughout my treatment and I forgot about it until recently when I was clearing up the knapsack for a short trip.

A timely find. Ever since I completed the treatment, I have been pondering - do I just go back to how things used to be? Is there something that I am meant to be doing that I am not doing? Surely I ought to be 10 times a better person than I used to be. I was standing in queue behind a lady who was ordering her wanton noodles the other day and I found myself getting impatient as she had a hard time deciding on the drink she wanted. Shouldn't I be more patient and considerate after what I have been through? But life is short and there is no time to waste, can we move along speedily please? Things and thoughts don't just fall into place right after the doctors gave me an all clear.  I am more appreciative of life but I still sweat the small things. I fit right back into the Business-As-Usual mode as if cancer was a mere punctuation - feels like no change in course needed, but is that really how it is meant to be? 

As I was praying about this yesterday morning, I was prompted by John 10: 9-10:

I am the door. If anyone enters by me, he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that you may have life and have it abundantly


The theme that runs through John's (Ortberg) book is doors. Open doors and closed doors. Reading the book over the past 2 days, it became clear to me that it wasn't intended to guide me through my career decisions last year. Rather, the book is meant to guide me through this slightly confusing time. The answer to my pondering was never going to be something other than God. More holidays were great but then what about all that times in between holidays? Finding a cause is great too, but what is the question I am trying to answer? God was reminding me that it all starts with Him being my open door.