It was a very inviting doorway. I noticed it right after I arrived at the apartment; an entry sporting a lovely summer wreath, a pewter dove above the door and a wrought iron cross stuck in a pot of geraniums. I wondered who lived there, as I never saw anyone go in or out.

This week I was heading out to run some errands and, like every other day, I passed that doorway on the way to my car. But this particular day, I felt that familiar impression on my heart and heard the words “Go knock.”

“What Lord?”

“Go knock. I promise, you’ll be blessed.”

I had been having a hard week, so, though my heart beat sped up with a little trepidation as I approached the door, my need for a blessing won out.

I knocked and waited. When no one immediately came, I started to turn and leave when the door finally opened and there stood an elderly man in what reminded me of Florida tourist attire – except for the ball cap that was turned backward (gangsta fashion!) on his head of white hair.

“Oh! Well, um, hello!”, he said, quickly ripping the hat off his head in an embarrassed flourish. “I was expecting my daughter, and wanted to show her my ‘costume’ from a video I was filming down at the church. May I help you?”

“Hi! I’m your neighbor from the next building and have admired your welcoming doorway since I moved in. I assume by the cross and dove that you’re Christians, and I am, too. I just wanted to stop and introduce myself.”

By this time, his wife had joined him at the door.

“Oh, how lovely! We love to know our neighbors and, well, nobody really stops and introduces themselves anymore. Please, come in and have a glass of tea with us.”

I entered their warm apartment home, where I learned that they had lived for the past five years, after selling their large home in town when it became too much upkeep for them. Both now in their eighties, they’d decided that they weren’t ready for a retirement home; they wanted to be “where the young people are.” I smiled, as it was apparent that this mentality had gone a long way in keeping them young, as well.

They told me about their church, and how the media team called him to shoot some baskets with his hat turned around for a video they were making. He chuckled at it, as he’d never played basketball before in his life! I, however, loved that fact that he was willing. They told me about their family and their grandchildren, and how they met and were married just after his service in WWII. I was able to thank him for his service, at which he looked surprised, saying that not many had ever thanked him and that he really appreciated that. One of their grandsons is currently serving his second tour of duty in Iraq, so I told him to send my thanks to him, as well.

We discussed my family and what our plans were. We discussed books and hobbies. We talked about our faith and the Bible. It was among the most pleasurable hours I’ve spent since I’ve moved here.

We exchanged phone numbers and emails (they are techno-savvy octogenarians!) and promised to get together again. As they walked me to the door, they told me what a blessing it was that I’d stopped by. It was then that I told them that they were God’s blessing to me, a gift in the obedience of a simple knock.

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. Matthew 7:7-9 NIV