Way to the Father's Heart

I made a choice to knock on a door not meant for me. He warned me, I did not understand. I stood outside the door. He stood with me. I knocked the door, and it didn’t open for me. He stood with me. I knocked and I knocked. He knocked with me. The door did not open. I waited. He waited with me. I waited. He tried to lead me away from the wrong door. I didn’t understand. He waited. I was knocked down. He was with me. It was an iron door that refused to relent to my knocking. He was with me. I knocked the door till I was hurting and bleeding. He knocked for me. I knocked till was exhausted and weary. He was with me. I sat by the closed door and waited for 6 years, knocking now and then, wearing myself out. Keeping patience and losing it. He waited with me. I knocked off and on. He knocked way more than I did – for me. I refused to budge from the door not meant for me. He stayed. I didn’t understand anything. He understood everything. Yet, He wa