Lessons from a Broken Doorknob

One day it works just fine, the next day it doesn't. Does this happen at your house, too?!

This time it was the back door. We've always called it the "back" door, but in reality it faces the street just like the front door. Maybe we should say "patio" door!

I knew I was in trouble when turning the doorknob didn't bring the latch in all the way and therefore I couldn't close the door. Hmmm . . . So I gave the door a good push. Success! I got the door closed but then the stubborn doorknob would not budge. There would be no coming and going out the "back" door until . . .

But wait! I could use the front door. The deadbolt worked fine as usual, but on closer examination I discovered the doorknob we seldom used had issues, too. That's all I needed . . . to have this one go completely and then I'd be stuck . . . either in or out. I've figured out a lot of things in the past 22 months but this job . . . well, I needed help.

Why is it so hard to ask for help? To communicate what we need?

Maybe it's because we don't want to bother people or inconvenience them (my default). Or we don't want to be indebted. Or it goes against our American ideal of independence. Or we don't want the added attention.

I've done a little thinking about this the last few days and even talked it over with my girls. There's something about community or interdependence that we miss when think we should be able to do life by ourselves. Perhaps we make assumptions about what's good for others, thereby seeking to manage their experiences. Letting them decide (yes or no) lessens our anxiety and frees us up to ask for what we need, invite friends over, or offer our gifts and abilities.

The night of the door jam, I found myself pacing the floor with the phone in my hand. A voice echoed in my mind: "If you ever need anything, please call me." So, taking a deep breath, I called.

"I'd be glad to help you, Sarah. How about my wife and I stop over tomorrow evening?" My eyes welled up with tears as I stuttered my thanks. The next day, I ran to Home Depot to pick up new doorknobs - and not the $9.97 variety either. In ten minutes flat our friend had the old locks out and the new ones in. Amazing!

And then they stayed. Unhurried, we chatted about our families, churches, and health concerns. About travel plans, my leaky gas meter, the house they would soon be selling. I will always remember their kindness in valuing our relationship enough to visit for a while. They blessed me beyond measure. I will think of them every time I open and close my "back" door.

Later, I thought of the joy I received from bringing a meal to a new mom, cleaning a friend's house before her son's graduation party, and visiting a lonely senior. I recalled the university students who shoveled two feet of snow off my driveway and had fun doing it. My friend with the green thumb who helped me with my garden and shared how coming over lifted her spirits. The brothers who cheerfully put in my air conditioners and left with a few of Barry's Greek books. The rich fellowship with old friends who came for the weekend to replace my bathroom floor. We all need the give and take of community. 

I'm learning . . . God meant it to be that way.

"Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God."

Hebrews 13:16 

A Double-Letter Memory . . .

Recognizing the familiar handwriting, I pulled the envelope out the stack of newly retrieved mail. I didn't need to see the return address to know one of my college roommates had sent it. Saving it until last, I carefully opened the card and settled into my favorite chair to savor the rare occasion of a handwritten note. 

"I have been strolling down Memory Lane lately," she wrote. "We are moving next month so have been decluttering! Lately my focus has been on the things accumulated in the attic. In going through files from college, I came across this."

I thumbed through the extra sheets in the card and found, much to my surprise, three pages she had hand-copied from a letter to me from my mom dated February 5, 1976. In it were Scriptural truths about God's provision of forgiveness and salvation and how to deal with doubts and introspection.

"I appreciated your mom's words again as I read them. So thankful the Lord allowed us to meet and become friends . . ."

Almost forty-one years to the day, my mom's words still rang true. All of a sudden, I missed her. In the days before easy FB communication, she had taken the time to faithfully write to me, to reassure my doubting heart, and to give me rock-solid truth to give me perspective and renew my confidence in His Word . . . which I had, in turn, shared with my roommate all those years ago.

This past week my own college-age daughter came home for spring break. So much catching up to do . . . so much to talk about. It didn't take long for her to share her desire to do a Bible study with a friend. Did I have anything that could help?

I combed through my office and not only found some good resources to help her but discovered, quite by accident, the original letter my roommate had copied all those years ago! To think that we BOTH kept these words of wisdom . . . she, with her college memorabilia (now scanned onto her computer) and me, in my ABC file.

Here's an excerpt from Mom's letter: "There is a real danger in becoming too introspective. God wants us to search our hearts but not to dwell on our failures and inadequacies. Confess and forsake [Proverbs 28:13] and then keep our eyes on Him. To keep looking in is to be defeated for sure. We are to keep looking up to the "author and finisher of our faith" (Hebrews 12:2). He always finishes what He begins."

It's good to sort through years of accumulation and separate out what we don't need anymore. But there are a few memories that speak a timeless treasure. Worth keeping, wouldn't you agree?