Faith Can Move Mountains...but not doors

I dedicate this one to Todd. Because he enjoys my pain.

There are certain truths that I hold to be universal and consistent. Gravity, for one. That death eventually takes us all, If you walk in the rain, you'll get wet, and until today, that when you walk towards and "automatic door" it will open.

As I dropped off my rental car at the airport this morning and walked towards the so-called automatic doors, I had every confidence that when I got to the other side it would be scratch and bruise free. After all, I'd been through these very doors hundreds of times before. And a promise is being made..in text..right on the door. "Automatic doors." OK, I've made my point.

As I walked towards them, they acted as if they were going to open, albeit slowly, and they opened leaving about a foot across of open air between the two doors. (Much like the above picture.) I figured they weren't REALLY going to stop there and that if I kept walking confidently toward them that they would finish what they started. I'm not sure why I never slowed my pace when I saw this wasn't actually going to happen, but I just knew that when you really believe...well, not so much. I ran straight in to the doors at my normal walking pace. My face and my right arm made it through the door and the rest of me got smacked, sending me flying backwards about two paces, fighting to regain my balance and my luggage.

I got a couple small scratches, but I think what hurt most was my betrayed trust. My faith was damaged today. And also my pride. I think the people watching me were puzzled by my faith in a door that didn't have any apparent intention of opening. But what can I say? I'm a believer.