Behind Closed Doors

I recently wrote about concealing the things we don't want others to know (Shutting the Door, January 5, 2023). Interestingly enough, the "door thing" seems to be lingering around my studies right now. This time, however, doors are being closed to reveal, not conceal.

In 2 Kings 4:1-37, God's prophet, Elisha, works miracles for a couple of women. The first, a widow, is not only about to lose her home, but her sons to indentured servitude, as well. She pleads for Elisha's help. He tells her to borrow pots, jars, vessels --anything to hold liquid-- from her neighbors. She is to take the small jar of oil --the only thing she has left in her home-- and begin pouring it out into the containers. But, Elisha's instructions are very specific: she is to shut the door. She and her boys are to conduct this operation behind closed doors, not out on the front porch, enjoying the last of the day's beautiful warmth; not in the driveway, lining the Tupperware up in row after row --behind closed doors. She obeys, and the oil begins to flow, never stopping until they've filled the last thimble, all debts are paid, and she and the boys have enough to live on.

The second woman is better off financially, but her husband is old and she has no son to help her when she is widowed. Elisha promises her a son. A year later, she is holding a screaming infant and dealing with late night feedings. But she is joyous! Some time later, however, her son collapses in the field and dies in her arms. She goes to find Elisha. After giving him a bit of a what-for, she accompanies him to her home where --behind closed doors-- Elisha prays and the boy is raised to life. 

Children are taught the proper posture of prayer is to close our eyes and fold our hands. What's taught in Scripture is for us to go into your room, and when you have shut your door, pray to your Father who is in the secret place (Matthew 6:6). Closed eyes, folded hands, closed doors-- all reduce distraction. Imagine what might have happened if the woman pouring oil stopped to talk with a neighbor. Not only would her labor ceased, but perhaps, her miracle as well. And how would that conversation have gone? Oh, me? Nah, nothing much, just making some oil. Yeah, who knew I had it in me! Oh, you need some, too? Well, grab that coffee mug over there and I'll hook you up. Ooops! Seems we're all out! Guess God just chose me. We are such vain, finite creatures. How long would her focus have remained on the Lord? How long would tears of gratitude streamed down her face before she noticed her neighbor hadn't mowed his lawn in four weeks and it was looking disgraceful? How long would she have been singing and praising the Lord before she started worrying the neighbors were comparing her to CeCe Winans?

And the woman whose son had passed --what if, the minute Elisha laid eyes on the boy, he'd simply lifted his hands and begun praying? Maybe there'd be a different outcome; maybe not. But Elisha felt the need to close the door, to remove all distraction, to be alone with God and the situation he was looking to have transformed.

If you've ever turned off your phone, sat in silence, maybe even turned off the lights, and just poured your heart out to the Lord, or let Him pour His out to you, you know that is the place where transformation lives. Where thoughts and words bubble up from within that you know are not your own; where you begin to pray for relationships or peace or finances, and suddenly find yourself longing to reconcile with others, or for them to know the peace of God or His provision; where you come to Him wanting answers to your deepest hurts and realize instead, He is the Answer; where all your lack becomes blessing and praise. Miracles happen and truth is revealed when we give all of ourselves to the Lord behind closed doors.