The Open Door

Regionals was such an interesting tournament, wasn't it?  For me, it was a blast in a lot of ways, and I had so much fun getting to catch up with some amazing people and engage in some great conversations. But it definitely had its low points. The second day of the tournament was one of the lowest of all. I felt distant from God all day, and I could feel Enemy forces moving into my heart with different things that were going on. After the banquet, we tried to wind down by watching a few Duck Dynasty episodes, but even Si Robertson's hilarious antics couldn't ease the tension in my heart. It kept me up all night, and at 5:55 Thursday morning, I opened my eyes and almost started crying, dreading the day that was to come.

That morning at breakfast, I decided I needed to re-focus everything. So I went to the back of the breakfast room at a table by myself, pulled out a notebook, and wrote myself a letter. I wrote verses about strongholds, and fighting. I prayed that God would give me the courage to tear down the fortresses Satan was trying to set up within me. And then, I wrote down another verse from Revelation 3. Even as I was writing it, I wasn't sure why. It had nothing to do with fighting, but it was the only verse that came to mind in that moment. So I wrote it down, and slipped it in my bag. That day, God did tear down the strongholds in my heart. But even after that, He had something bigger in mind.

Saturday morning breaks were announced, and I was excited to hear my name called with some of my closest friends for apologetics. As I waited outside my semi-final room, I felt my stomach turning. Finally, it was my turn. I walked up the stairs, whispering Psalm 16 to myself....... "I saw the Lord always before me. Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken."

The speech I gave that round was the worst I had presented all season. I stepped out of the room, and sat down on the top step for a few seconds, afraid to face any well-meaning friends asking how the round had gone. As I felt my inner-introvert kicking in, I knew I had to get outside by myself. So I grabbed the letter I had written the morning before, and stepped out of the building. As I walked slowly around the sidewalk, I read the letter to myself. Strength, fighting, a warrior-like heart, tearing down strongholds........ God, I tried!  Yesterday, you tore down the stronghold, I thought I was going to be okay. Why does he have to keep tearing ME down?!  Is this from you?  God, I want you to stir hearts with my words, I don't want to be done.

My mind drifted back to my spiritual wrestling Monday night before we left for Iowa, and the notes I had jotted down in my prayer journal. Entreating God to use me, and let me win just one heart-battle that week. Praising Him for knowing what topics I would draw, and for holding the results in His hands even though they had not yet passed through mine. Resting in Him. One phrase stood out in my memory....

"The pre-decided 'Yes, Lord.' "

The pre-decided  "Yes, Lord" was a term I'd heard in an online Ellerslie sermon called "The Patriot", which had inspired me beyond imagination. I'd prayed that God would give me a resolve to have it all throughout that week. Now that I was faced with what I was sure was the end of my tournament, it was becoming harder. But looking back at my motives outside my last round, I was really having to question my focus. I had gone into that apologetics round with the intention of impressing. Maybe that all-in resolve to fight for God's glory and only His, to bring His kingdom and accept His plans, to follow wherever He led..... that pre-decided "Yes, Lord".... wasn't as alive as I had thought. I wish I had it back. I wish I had my resolve for His kingdom back. I wish I had the strength to fight. God, I just want to touch someone. I want to win that heart-fight. 

I looked down at my letter, and read the following words from Revelation 3:8:

   "I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name."

My knees were almost shaking as I stopped walking and looked up. It was as if Jesus Himself had come down to meet me, and whispered those words to my heart. There was still an open door.

Maybe someone else in that position would have thought that meant I would be advancing to the next round. Maybe they would have thought that the speech hadn't sounded as bad from the judge's table. But when I heard that verse, my mind wasn't even on the round. Breaks were suddenly out of the picture. I could only think of one thing, as my heart fluttered in my chest..... He still has an open door. That no one can shut. He is not done with me.

I hesitated to bring up that story this week, because I don't want anyone to misinterpret why I'm talking about it. Yes, God did take me to finals, and did give me another chance to share the story of a girl in China named Jia, whose life was changed by Jesus. Yes, He did give me a chance to pick up three more ballots. But that's not what mattered.

Because that wasn't the door.

Apologetics finals, impromptu finals, debate finals, humorous finals, open finals, or even national finals are not inherently beautiful. Think about it.......... it's a group of highschoolers, with a few distinguished adults in charge, who are each gifted in speaking, and who are fighting for plastic trophies and respect from their fellow competitors. We're fighting to walk across the stage, receive our rewards, and stand in front of the poperazzi in our little suits. And I can't condemn that longing, because so often that consumes the essence of my tournament experience.

But at each tournament this year, God has been teaching me something different. Whether it was how to bleed His love, at the Minnesota qualifier, a call to search more deeply for Him, in Kansas, or an affection so deep that it can free me from my chains, at the MN Open, it all comes down to the cross.

And this tournament, I realized that the cross is a door. An open door. That no one can shut.

And that door touches hearts. That bleeds over them, it reaches out to find them, and it frees them. The door does not open to a ballot, or a trophy...... the one that opens to a heart. The open door was the heart of the heart of the judge from finals that intentionally came up to me and told me I had inspired her faith. The open door was in the eyes of a friend, where the tears fell selflessly for her sister. The open door was in the hands that held mine as we prayed. The open door was in the smile that never let up on me. The open door was in the little feet that shuffled shyly as her little five-year-old voice told me her name. The open door was in the kindness of a friend, who was willing to genuinely listen for as long as it took.

A lot of people left this tournament feeling excited about their results. Others are still anticipating roll-down or at-large calls. Some are disappointed and hurting from broken dreams that seem outside of God's plan. But no matter where you stand, never forget that His words weren't just to me. As Eric Ludy says, "My God has promised, and He cannot lie!!"

And He has placed before you an open door. A door that no one..... whether it's disappointing ballots, confused judges, lost nationals slots, or the forces of Hell itself..... can shut.