What's behind your door?

"All of us every single year, we're a different person. I don't think we're the same person all our lives." ~Steven Spielberg

This morning, Facebook reminded me of where we were a year ago — coming to the end of what felt like a very long journey.

Sometimes it seems as if we are always on a long journey. For my husband, the journey began in 2013, before we married. I suspect it really began before that, perhaps when he left the hospital, or even when he started down the path into emergency service. By the time we met, he had devoted his life to helping others through the fire service.

The past several years have been tough for my love. He wants to help people. He has a heart for helping people. I think that may be what drew me to him initially — he's a helper. I find myself surrounded by helpers. They're my people, the ones who want to see the world better for humans and creatures and willing to do what they can to get it there. They're some of the best people in the world, but also some of those with the fiercest hearts.

For my love, he's felt adrift.

Sometimes, the comfortable door is
hard to close. 

His whole life, he knew what he wanted to do. He knew that he wanted to be a firefighter. He was a firefighter. That was his door, one he had chosen many years ago, before he turned 18.

Since his injury in 2014, he's not been able to participate in the way he'd become accustomed to. He couldn't jump up every time the tones dropped, he couldn't don the gear and rush a building with his brothers. For several years, he'd taken an exterior role anyway, dealing with "those media people." ;)

But voluntarily being on the outside to do your job is one thing. Being told you had to be on the outside is quite the other. Even worse, for the time right around the surgeries, he wasn't allowed to be on a scene.

Last year, the day after this post, he was given a mostly clear. While there was nothing he outright was told not to do by the insurance doctor, his knee surgeon and his therapist told him to avoid running, for example. Or to be extra careful and simply listen to his knees.

He still struggles sometimes with poor circulation, due to a clotting issue after the second surgery. And if he's on his feet for an extended time, well, he pays for it later.

That much time out, getting closer to retirement age for a firefighter — all of that has been telling my love that it's time to close the door.

Or at least look behind another door. To find a new dream.

He's a very logical man, to my head-in-the-clouds way. Sometimes I have to remind him that it's okay to keep dreaming.

Ever since I met him in 2013, he'd talked about going back to college. When he went the first time, he was a newly married man, working, with a kid on the way. As life happens, plans derail. He never finished.

He's finally going back. Thanks to some serious financial aid and the kind benefactors to the Harrodsburg campus of Campbellsville University, he's pursuing a dream of getting that degree.

I'm so proud of him. It's been a struggle already, but he's persevering.

In the past, he's talked about fire science. He talked about emergency services or medical-related fields. He talked about ministry. And then more about ministry. This time, he decided he wants to open the door on ministry. He wants to pursue something that helps people spiritually. He hopes to become a christian counselor, perhaps a family or marriage counselor.

I am so sure this is going to happen. I can see him doing it. I know with my heart that he will be wonderful at it. He's had plenty of struggles in his own life, struggles that I think he will be able to use to help others.

And, I believe in him.

Some doors are hard to see, but
sometimes they're the best.

But most of all, I believe in God. I believe so much that this will happen; that this is God's plan.

In the past, something always got in the way, but not this time. I dream with him. I dream of that graduation day. I dream of the day we christen his office. And I dream of the day he meets his first clients, be they at a church or at that office. I dream of the days when he can really help people with their life struggles.

I dream of what will come when we fling that door open and run through.

It's hard sometimes to admit that we need to let go of our dreams and find new ones. It's hard to admit it's time to look behind door #2.

But when we don't, when we hold too long to the thing behind door #1 and refuse to look at doors #2 or #3, we limit ourselves. We run the risk of missing out on the best decision we could have made.

We make ourselves and those around us miserable. Sometimes we do it out of fear. Sometimes pure stubbornness. Sometimes, we don't even realize we are doing it.

But that only lasts so long. Eventually, we have to accept that we have explored all there is behind door #1. We have to admit that we deserve more. We have to open the second door.

What about you? Have you found your door? Have you found a door that doesn't work anymore? Don't be too scared, too stubborn, or too foolish.

Open the door and take a chance.

What does your door look like?