When the Door Is Already Open

We had an unusual visitor on our screened-in porch this morning.

A hawk somehow flew through the screen and found itself trapped inside. Once it realized it could not get back out the way it came, it did what probably made perfect sense from its perspective. It kept flying toward the outdoors.

The problem was that there was a screen between the hawk and the freedom it could clearly see.

It would flap its wings, push toward the light, hit the screen, back away, and try again. The trees were right there. The sky was right there. Other birds were flying freely just a few feet away. Everything it wanted was visible on the other side.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the porch, the door was standing wide open.

Watching all of this unfold gave us a pretty vivid picture of something we have experienced ourselves more than once. There are times in life when we can see something we want on the other side of a circumstance, and because we can see it, we assume that must be the way through. We work harder, push harder, try another angle, and convince ourselves that if we just keep at it long enough, eventually something will give.

But sometimes we are simply beating against a screen.

What was interesting about the hawk was that strength was not the problem. It had plenty of strength. Effort was not the problem either. It was certainly trying hard enough.

What it lacked was perspective.

From where the hawk was trapped, the screen looked like the obvious route to freedom. From where we were standing, we could see something it could not.

The door was already open.

That image felt especially relevant to us because we have spent a lot of time thinking about discernment and what it means to follow God without trying to force outcomes. There can be a fine line between perseverance and simply pushing against something because we have already decided where we think the path should lead.

One phrase from Scripture we have returned to often comes from the life of David: “David inquired of the Lord.” David was capable and experienced, yet again and again he stopped to ask God for direction rather than simply moving toward what appeared obvious.

That challenges us because our natural tendency can be to ask God to help us get through the opening we have already chosen.

There is a difference between praying, “God, help me break through this,” and praying, “God, show me where You are actually leading.”

Not every good opportunity is necessarily our assignment, and not every obstacle means we should simply try harder. Sometimes God does call us to persevere through difficulty, so we do not want to interpret every frustration as a closed door or every easy path as an open one. That is why discernment matters.

Maybe the greater question is whether we are staying close enough to God to recognize the difference.

The hawk could see exactly where it wanted to go. What it could not see was how to get there.

We have felt that way before. There are seasons when we can picture what we think the outcome should look like, but the path toward it feels confusing. We can become so focused on the destination that we spend our energy trying to force the route we can see rather than asking whether God may be leading us somewhere else.

Eventually, the hawk found its way out.

The freedom it had been fighting so hard to reach had been available the whole time. It simply was not in the direction it had been looking.

We do not want to over-spiritualize a hawk getting stuck on our porch, but we do think the picture is worth sitting with.

Sometimes we do not need more strength. We need perspective.

Sometimes we do not need to push harder. We need to look around.

And sometimes the question is not, “How do we get through this?”

Maybe the better question is:

Where are we pushing against a screen while God may already have another door open?