The Last Door

For two years of my life I was a missionary for my church, a lot of time was spent talking to people on the street or knocking on doors searching for someone that would listen to the message that we had to share. Many weeks were spenting knocking, knocking, knocking. You never knew what to expect behind each door. Doors might be slammed in your face, you might be invited in, you might get someone arguing with your beliefs, or perhaps no one answers at all.

Then, one day it happened. The last door. The last door that you knock. The last chance. To me it was the symbolic end of one time period, and the beginning of something new. The last door was more than just the average door. Suddenly my life was no longer going to be a missionary, what would the future hold? What would be behind the new door of life that in essence I would be knocking on the next day? Would it lead to something argumentitive? Perhaps I will be invited in? Or maybe, like the final door that I knocked on my mission no one will answer. Looking forward to what lies behind the next door.