I’ve always had a fascination with doors and windows. They’re a way to catch a glimpse through a wall which separates you from a completely different world.

At night, when I’m driving, my eyes are often drawn to the houses with lit windows. I can never really get a good look inside as I’m moving past, but sometimes I see a tv, or a bookcase, or lacy curtain. And I wonder what the story is in that house. Who lives there? What are they watching on tv? What books are on that shelf? What thoughts are running through the heads of the people who own those books?

When I first explored Paris, I was delighted to discover that the walls lining the streets didn’t only have houses behind them. Now and then, a door would be open and as I walked past, I could see whole courtyards with open sky, driveways and trees, flowers and more doorways leading in to other buildings. There were whole worlds tucked away behind those gray stone and brick walls abutting the narrow cobblestone streets. I wondered what it would be like to walk through one of those courtyards. To live in one of those hidden buildings.

One day as a child, I took a long walk with my family in the French countryside. Along one side of the road was a tall stone wall that was partially in ruins, crumbling in places and covered with vines. At one point, there was a set of old stone stairs leading up the side of wall to an empty archway at the top. The rest of the structure was long gone. The doorway went nowhere. But in my imagination, it could have gone anywhere. A set of stairs leading up to a doorway to the woods on the other side of the wall. I wished I could see what was on the other side.

Maybe it’s simply a fascination with the unknown. Maybe it’s mere curiosity about different cultures and times and lifestyles. Maybe it’s a bit of escapism, wanting to slip away into a fantasy world to escape the stressors and difficulties here for a bit. Or maybe, it’s part of a continuous searching for something that I haven’t found yet but I’m hoping with my whole heart to find. Something on the other side of an immense wall - that I’ll be able get to if I can just find the right doorway.

C. S. Lewis wrote that this longing was actually a longing for Heaven. He wrote that if we were created to live in Heaven, the longing for Heaven would naturally be inside of us. He also said that “if we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”

This world is temporary and fleeting. While it seems so all-consuming, it’s just a dot in our lifespan. Just the preface in our book. What comes after will be the whole story.

We’ve all got stories to tell. We’ve all got secret longings and hopeful wishes. Sometimes our hopes and dreams seem too far out of reach to ever achieve, or the daily chores make you feel like you’re constantly climbing a flight of stairs but not getting anywhere. But keep your eyes open as you’re walking along, because sometimes Joy and Laughter spill like light out of a window. Sometimes you can catch a glimpse of Heaven through an open doorway. In the eyes of a stranger who stops to give you directions. In the hands of a doctor who slows to give you a hug. In the smile of a child who slips their hand into yours. In the voice of a friend giving wise counsel.

I’m going to keep looking through windows and doorways, and keep trusting that one day I’ll find my door. And when I find it, I’ll walk through it, and finally find the deepest longings of my heart are satisfied.