He stands expectantly, nose to the door, waiting for me to unlock and open it. As I manage the task, I see his waiting. Often it is patient; but sometimes, he encourages me with a low growl or even a sharp bark.

                Regardless, I like looking down on his copper-toned back, seeing him poised to enter and exuding a quiet energy of anticipation. What lies beyond the door that warrants his intense focus?

                Warmth, water, food, a comfy chair, a familiar atmosphere—he knows that they await him.

                At last! The door opens. Leashed or not, he runs in, undeniably happy to be…home! His confidence in what lay beyond the door is not disappointed.

                In The Last Battle, C. S. Lewis pictures death as a humble, dirty stable. Anyone who goes through the stable’s door, will not be seen again on this side of it. And the one creature, a cat, who does return is scared literally out of its wits.

                So, all the characters standing about and observing it, experience a stomach wrenching fear, realizing that soon each will have to go through the dreaded door.

                However, those who believe in Aslan, as soon as they enter the stable are surprised to find the interior totally different than their expectations.

                And I, as a believer in Jesus, waiting my turn to go through death’s door, can choose the manner of my waiting. I can embrace the normal, natural fear of facing the unknown and thinking it terrible.

                Or, by the powerful grace of the Holy Spirit, I can adopt Sammy’s focused eagerness to go through the door, reaching wonderful things that lie beyond it.

                Of course, you know my choice. What is yours?