Wishes for a Screen Door Slammin'

I am standing at a screen door.

I can see outside.
It's spring time.
The flowers are blooming.
The sun is shining.
The birds are singing.
It is perfection.
It is the promise God has given me.
It is going to be fulfilled.

There is just one issue.
He has told me to stay inside.
He doesn't want me to open the door.
Yet.


He is allowing me to see what is outside,
but it is not time to go out and play.
Yet.

It is so reassuringly frustrating.
I know that there is immeasurable joy on the other side of this screen door.
I can almost see it.
I can almost smell it.
I can hear the beginning whispers.

But I can't touch it.
I can't experience it.
I can't have it.
Yet.

Here I am waiting for the moment.
That I can open the screen door.
That I can go outside.
That I can smell the flowers.
That I can feel the warm sun.
That I will experience my promise being fulfilled.
That I will hear the screen door slammin' behind me.





"See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; ...
Lift up your eyes and look around; all your sons gather and come to you.
As surely as I live," declares the LORD, "you will wear them all as ornaments;
you will put them on, like a bride.

"Though you were ruined and made desolate and your land laid waste,
now you will be too small for your people ...
Then you will say in your heart, 'Who bore me these?
I was bereaved and barren;
I was exiled and rejected.
Who brought these up?
I was left all alone, but these--where have they come from?' "

This is what the Sovereign LORD says: ...
they will bring your sons in their arms
and carry your daughters on their shoulders.
... Then you will know that I am the LORD;
those who hope in me will not be disappointed."
Isaiah 49:16-23