This weekend I spent time with people who epitomize the notion of an open-door policy.  For as long as I have known them, they have served whoever shows up however they can. Family, friends, or complete strangers… they welcome all of them. Even in times of great need, they bless whomever whenever. 28 years ago, during perhaps the greatest time of need for them, I showed up on their doorstep. They had next to nothing but took me in and cared for me as their own.

All these years later, I sat in their family room with my own two children. All of us belong there, counted as family. I thought about doors, easy on their hinges. I am a life blessed by easy hinges. That blessing spills over onto my own family.

15 years ago, Hubby Guy and I started attending the church where we remain members. Shortly, thereafter a group of people claimed us as their own. That group dined together every Sunday after church at a local Mexican restaurant. Years passed and people moved away, but our family still goes to that Mexican restaurant almost every Sunday after church.

I can’t name exactly when, but a number of years ago the restaurant underwent a facelift. As part of the process, they got new doors. They’ve never been easy to open. So, for years now the doors require two hands and superhuman strength to open in either direction. I never understood why they left them that way.

Well, about 2 months ago they finally fixed the doors. We showed up for lunch and I nearly launched myself into the parking lot when I pulled on the door. For the first time since the renovation, it swung easily on its hinges. By the time we left, I had forgotten the change and practically fell on my face by putting my weight into it as I have for years on end.

Shannan Martin is an author I really enjoy. She writes mostly about creating community. In her newest book Start With Hello, she shares a neighbor’s blessing. One line from it says, “May your door stay easy on its hinges.” I immediately thought of those ridiculous doors we have fought our way into and out of every Sunday for years.

May your door stay easy on its hinges. I love the sentiment of the statement. I feel, though, like more of our doors are like the ones at the Mexican restaurant before they fixed them.  We don’t just show up at the homes of others. Visits often require superhuman effort to push, pull and maneuver overloaded schedules. We stay busy, private, and unavailable. Meanwhile, we miss out on opportunities to bless those that show up at our doors, literally and figuratively.

Consider your doors. I too am considering mine. I feel convicted. Do we need to finally fix our doors? Do we have hinges that require superhuman strength to move?

This week, how can our comings and goings bless those nearest us? Can we grow a sensitivity to those at our periphery? Can we become a people better at serving whomever whenever?