You have heard
it said, ‘When God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.’ But I am
engaged, presently, in a much more curious switcheroo than that – namely, that
behind the closed door is something (seemingly) custom-made for me, and through
the (blatantly) open window is something I don’t suspect belongs to me.
Although it is likely that those sentences suffice, there is a certain degree
of emphasis to be noted; the former element is as conspicuous as a messenger
whose telegram corresponds to my address, though its inaccessibility is as
evident as though it were blocked by steel bars. Likewise, the accessibility of
the latter element is far more than plain, or obvious – it is as if a golden
stairway were leading there, and (lest we haven’t enough cartoon clichés) many
flashing neon Arrows were pointing at it.
It might be insensitive
to associate that latter element with a trivial object; but I mean to say that my
journey is painfully clear. This quest, this Life-Walk, this ‘Road to
Cincinnati’ as I have sometimes called it, is taught to me in such a way that I
seem to understand it. And the path behind the Open Window is, to put it simply
(and to eschew the tedium of details), anything but Cincinnatian. Similarly, to
that alleged understanding is owed my perception of Destiny behind the closed
door. Words, signs, locations, events – all point to the characterization which
I have assigned. But I suppose that alleged
understanding is the key phrase. Do I really understand it? No, assuredly not. And maybe neither of these opportunities is ‘open’ at all, except arranged
in such a way that they strengthen me: That is the trial. That is the Road to
Cincinnati. That is what the Psalmist calls the Path of Life.
But. That’s just
a guess. For the sake of rhyme, God bless.
1. Who would have guessed it? In the past, my
blogs made mention of you; and I would have assumed, with such inexorable
certainty, that the days of those entries had finished.
2. I would have guessed it. That is the answer. I would have written this scene, with quite an overwhelming majority of the details which we find – all except the one.
2. I would have guessed it. That is the answer. I would have written this scene, with quite an overwhelming majority of the details which we find – all except the one.
This is fantastic. I'm a bit skeptical of the "When God opens a door, he closes a window" thing unless it's being sung by Julie Andrews, truth be told. Unscripted reality isn't that tidy.
ReplyDeleteWell, I meant that the other way around. But I suppose it's true in either direction.
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