The slamming of a door

There are few things more expressive than the sound of slamming doors. Sometimes, it's the quick push of the door when hot children are dashing to be the first in the pool. Other times, it's the forceful explosion of anger between siblings too frustrated to communicate any other way. There's the quick flick of the door that indicates a desire for privacy. And there's the house rattling slam that follows an all out fight.

I used the slamming of doors when I was young only rarely. I knew what kind of consequence might and often did follow that kind of demonstration. Instead, I would merely envision slamming the door in great detail in my mind's eye, often including details like someone getting a rather severe nosebleed from close contact with my fearsome door slamming skills.

As it turned out, I became quite the door slammer with those around me. Purely figuratively speaking of course. Having been blessed with the gift of loving others easily, and even loving others too much, I was too vulnerable. And I experienced all too often that those I loved had great power to hurt me in every possible way. It was a defense mechanism I employed when I felt that someone was getting a little too close, that I had let my boundaries slip a little too far. It protected me from letting others see how afraid, sad, vulnerable and broken I was.

Sad to say, but I haven't outgrown this tendency. I look at someone's behavior and see a threat of harm and WHAM! There goes the door. In an unguarded moment, I realize I love someone who may not love me back and with a quick flip of my mental wrist, I hide behind my slammed door. I let someone know details about me and my life that I still haven't become comfortable with, and there's a high probability that the door will close hard and fast.

On the surface at least, I still love and interact and tease. But the walls are up and the door is firmly closed, perhaps even locked. I've tried with all my might to overcome this tendency. I have prayed about it often. In fact, the Lord has made it clear to me from time to time that I must trust and allow certain others into the grimy corners of my heart and soul. Sometimes these make sense to me...like my counselor, doctor, bishops, visiting teachers, and so forth. With these individuals, I find myself disclosing what I must and watching for the first signs of danger, even when I know they have proven themselves trustworthy in the past.

There are others though that I feel directed to share things with that I don't understand. When I am rebuffed or hurt by these individuals, and the Lord continues to encourage me to be vulnerable, I feel panic stricken. I try to be obedient. I try to put my trust in him instead of in people, who nearly always let me down. I beg him to help me see these individuals as he sees them so that I can take courage. And he HAS blessed me with the ability to see the potential of people, a blessing that has proven to be both a blessing as well as a curse.

Suffice it to say that I find myself trying to decide whether or not to slam a few doors. At a time when I am feeling extra lonely (it has been 9 years of being alone!), and when my emotions are being stirred up everyday by the growing pangs of my family and my work, I find the absence of people in my life to be a stark reminder of exactly how isolating the slamming of doors can be.