Gratitude for Closed Doors
In the moment I'm often disappointed when God says no, but over time I have come to thank him for these these sharp turns.
There’s a scene from my college days that I often recall. In this flashback, I’m in an empty church parking lot, rain pouring down, and I’m at the steering wheel of my 1989 Ford Mustang. A relationship I was sure would be the one fell apart. I was angry, unsure what God was doing, and frustrated at a future that seemed so uncertain.
A door slammed shut in my face. This wouldn’t be the first time something I felt was a good and right thing, something that seemed to be in step with God’s will, just evaporated into thin air. The pain in that moment was real, but in the years since, I’ve reflected on it with overwhelming gratitude for that closed door, which redirected my life toward something better. Without that “no”, there would be no “yes” to the amazing woman I married and my four beautiful children. It would have meant, as I look back, a much different life and direction, an inferior pathway than the one God chose for me.
Since then, there have been several more closed doors. I’ve had proposals rejected, ideas dismissed, and resumes left in the slush pile. I’ve been fired, betrayed, and misunderstood. None of these things are fun at the time, but the older I get, the more I thank God for saying no. I’ve started telling myself, “If God is saying no to this, what is he saying yes to?” I still struggle with faith, but I’ve come to understand that the unexpected life God has given me is better than the life I would have planned for myself.
To be sure, God doesn’t always allow us to see the full backside of every tapestry, at least in this life. Some closed doors remain part of God’s inscrutable providence, the mystery we trust with threads of faith when it doesn’t make sense. I am thinking of a parent I know who lost a young son in a freak accident. I think of a wife whose husband succumbed to cancer in his thirties, leaving two children. I think of Christian refugees in war-torn places around the world. Life for them, now, is so threadbare, so uncertain, so hard. Though we know intellectually that suffering builds character, we will not understand completely, until heaven, how God weaves our pain and suffering into his larger story. We will see that in full one day (1 Corinthians 2:9; 1 John 3:2). I believe this. I believe God will make all things new. I believe the words of Revelation that promise every tear will be wiped away.
In this gritty meantime, we don’t have to be flippant, inventing flimsy silver linings where there doesn’t appear to be any. Sometimes all we can do is groan like the Apostle, trusting God to keep together our broken jars of clay. “We are afflicted in every way, “He wrote, “but not crushed; we are perplexed but not in despair; we are persecuted but not abandoned; we are struck down but not destroyed.” We trust the goodness of our Father.
Still, sometimes, even through a glass darkly, we can see the reason for a rejection, a slammed door, or an opportunity taken away. I think of doors I’ve tried to slam open that would not budge, even with one of these battering rams from the crime shows. I remember the disappointment of those moments. Yet years later, I think, Thank you, Lord, for saying no. I thought this would be good for me and you, my Father, knew so much better.
As a dad, I know the value of a hard no. I cannot give my kids everything they ask for. There are things they want that I know are bad for them. They won’t appreciate that until many, many years from now. They don’t have perspective.
And I don’t have perspective, the perspective that God has, who sees all things outside of time. He sees the whole of my life, from beginning to end, to eternity.
I do think, though, that the longer I walk with God, the more I am leaning on his providence when he says no. In the last few years, my wife and I have started praying, Lord, if you don’t want this for us, close this door. Sometimes we’ve even found a closed door to be ... relief.
If you are reading this and you are in a season of your life where a few expected things did not go your way, I want to say that sometimes God’s resounding no is a blessing. I want to especially say this to you if you are in your early stages of adulthood, perhaps college, or just beyond. Take it from someone a few miles ahead. One, day you will see that you can thank God for a closed door.