You know the rest. He opens a window. Right? I've been thinking about that phrase a lot since I bought this old window.
I bought this without a design plan. I still don't know what to do with it. I've seen all the flickr ideas; hanging it in a doorway, using it as a picture frame, etc. But, I kind of like it as is, just propped in the window. I love how old it is; the flaky paint, the splintered wood, the wavy glass.
I wonder about the little child must have breathed fog onto it on cold snowy days, the woman who read a book as wet fall leaves slapped against it in a storm, the man who watched summer nights full of lightening bugs through it.
It seems as of late, the Lord has closed a couple of pretty big doors. Disclaimer; this is not a pity party. I'm not the least bit sad as I write this. We're doing fine, we're healthy, happy, holding down jobs, etc. But in the past six months there have been two doors in particular that seemed to have closed. Not slammed, just gently pulled to.
And even though it doesn't make sense to me now, I'm confident in my God. I'm confident that he'll make sense of it all later, later when he opens a window.