What Are You Hiding Behind Closed Doors?
If you've ever lived in a proper British house, you know we have a thing for doors. Every single room (no matter its size or purpose) gets its own door, mostly so we can trap what little heat we've generated and keep it from wandering off into the great British damp. Jason and I, however, are lazy about this. We leave nearly every door in our house standing wide open, all the time, because who wants to be constantly opening and closing doors?
But recently we had company, and suddenly we became Door People. We shut this one for privacy. We shut that one to muffle the noise. It was very civilized of us. Our dog, Tess, disagreed. Strongly! Tess is firmly in the "all doors open, all the time" camp, and since most of our doors don't latch properly, she took it upon herself to become the neighborhood door-nudger-opener. It wasn't even that she wanted into any particular room. She just could not abide a closed door. Rotten mutt!
The more I chuckled over Tess's one-dog crusade against closed doors, the more I realized God feels exactly the same way. Not about our hallway doors, but about the doors of our hearts.
We are all masters at closing certain rooms off from the Lord. Maybe there's a habit we're not ready to surrender. Maybe there's a grudge we're nursing like a secret houseplant. Maybe it's a fear, a doubt, or a shame we've decided is simply too messy for company...even holy Company. So we shut the door. We might even lock it and hide the key, convinced that if we just tidy the room up a bit first, we'll let the Lord in, eventually.
Here's the trouble with that plan: God isn't fooled by closed doors, and He's certainly not waiting for us to redecorate before He'll love us.
Hebrews 4:13 says, "Neither is there any creature that is not manifest in his sight: but all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of him with whom we have to do."
That word "opened" stops me every time. Every room of my heart is already open to Him, whether or not I've handed Him the key. He sees the clutter, the cobwebs, and the stuff I've shoved in the back closet hoping nobody would notice. He's not shocked. He's not disgusted. He's simply waiting for me to stop pretending He can't see in and welcome Him inside.
Closing a door on God accomplishes nothing except making us more miserable, because He already knows what's in there. The only person the locked door is actually keeping out is us!
Out of the freedom.
Out of the healing.
And out of the peace that comes from letting Him tend to what we've been hiding.
I think that's why Tess wouldn't leave those doors alone. She wasn't trying to snoop. I think, in her doggy way, she just sensed that closed doors don't belong in a house full of family. And neither do they belong in a heart that claims to belong to God.
So today, maybe it's time to do a little inventory. Which door have you nudged shut, hoping the Lord wouldn't notice? Whatever it is (the anger, the addiction, the unforgiveness, the fear), He already sees it. He's just waiting for you to stop guarding it and let Him in to clean house.
🔍 PULLING BACK THE CURTAIN: A Peek at the Study Behind This Post
Like so many of my devotions, this one started with a real-life event, and it snowballed from there.
The Spark: Tess kept shoving open every door we'd closed for our houseguests, and I laughed, "Why does this dog care so much about open doors?" That single funny observation became the seed.
The Search: I asked myself, "Where in Scripture does God talk about seeing what's hidden?" I started with the obvious—Psalm 139 (God knowing our thoughts)—but it felt too familiar, so I went digging further.
The Rabbit Trail: I landed in Hebrews 4, originally looking for verses on rest (verse 9-11), but kept reading and hit verse 13—"naked and opened unto the eyes of him." That word "opened" jumped off the page because it echoed my literal doors!
The Connection: I cross-referenced with Job 26:6 and Proverbs 15:3 to confirm this "God sees all" theme runs consistently through Scripture, not just as a one-off idea.
The Crystallization: Once I realized the irony—Tess wanted doors open because she couldn't tolerate anything closed, while we humans want our heart-doors closed because we can't tolerate being seen—the whole devotion clicked into place.
Time Note: This whole treasure hunt took about 40 minutes, most of which was me giggling at Tess's defiant behavior in my memory instead of actually reading my concordance.
Try it yourself: next time something ordinary annoys or amuses you, ask "Is God saying something through this?" Grab a concordance, type your key idea into a Bible search tool, and follow the trail wherever it leads. You'll be amazed at what treasure is waiting just under the surface of your everyday life.