Then the doors opened, again.
I knew it was late. The morning began with remembering that I needed to send an email with an attachment. So, at 6.30 this morning, I decided to open the computer and send it as I wasn’t going to have email facility during the day, and the attachment was for a meeting in the afternoon.
Of course, this would be the time when my laptop decided it was going to do an ‘update download’ – which would then require a reboot! ‘Don’t panic!’, I said to myself while remembering my train was leaving at 6.55; albeit less than five minutes’ walk from where I live.
After all that, the email wouldn’t send anyway (don’t’ know why even tonight!).
I left at about 6.51 and started jogging, walking and then running up the hill to the train station. I saw the train had arrived and was stopped. I was a couple of hundred meters away and thought I was too late. It would be gone before I got there. ‘Keep going’, I said to myself.
As I got closer the train hadn’t drawn away but the doors were closed and then I noticed it was an older train with doors that don’t have electric releases on the outside. I’m standing by the closed doors, out of breath, frustrated by my lack of a compliant computer and wondering how late was I actually going to be now for my 9 o’clock meeting in Edinburgh.
Then, the doors opened again.
I was able to get on and get a seat, still trying to get my breath, but with a relief as the day opened up again in a constructive way.
When the conductor arrived and I was getting a ticket, I asked him to pass on my thanks to the driver for opening the doors again so that I could get on. He replied that he wondered what the driver was doing. ‘He must have seen you in his mirror and decided to open the doors again’.
While out for a run this evening, I was reflecting on my happy incident this morning, and I couldn’t help wonder about the moment of grace that was in it. I know we talk about this Jesus who stands ‘at doors and knocks’ waiting to be invited in. But, is it too much to give thanks to, and for, a God who doesn’t wait for us to knock doors. Maybe, instead of leaving the door locked and moving on without us, He continues to keep watch for the straggler, gives us every chance to get there and, when we thought it was too late, opens the door for us to enter, perhaps out of breath but with no less a sense of relief and appreciation, and thanksgiving!
Fred Vincent 