Praying for Open Doors: Sharing Faith Across a Family Divide

When Paul writes his letter to the Colossians, he’s literally in chains—imprisoned with few comforts and no promise of release. Yet in chapter 4, he reveals not only his priorities, but something essential about the early Christian mission.

Colossians 4:2–4—“Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving. At the same time pray for us as well that God will open to us a door for the word, that we may declare the mystery of Christ, for which I am in prison, so that I may reveal it clearly, as I should.”

In contemporary Christian language, an “open door” often implies opportunity: a new job, a life change, a personal blessing. But Paul’s use of the phrase is much narrower and more focused. He doesn’t ask for an open door out of prison. He asks for an open door for the word—a metaphor for opportunity to proclaim the message of Jesus.

Paul’s prayer challenges the modern tendency to spiritualize personal advancement and reminds me of what truly matters.

Like Paul, I find myself praying for open doors—not for personal gain, but for opportunities to authentically share my faith.

There’s a quiet ache that has come with my transformation, and it centers on my parents. My journey into faith has completely changed me, touching every part of my life. And yet, I fear they don’t want to see this new me.

It’s like an invisible wall has risen, a barrier built not of anger, but of unspoken differences and the fear of misunderstanding.

I long to speak freely about what now centers my life—my relationship with God, my growing understanding of Jesus, the wisdom I find in Scripture, and the daily, often clumsy effort to live more like Christ. This isn’t just a hobby or a Sunday morning activity. It’s the lens through which I now see the world and my place in it.

But with my mom, the mention of faith can still trigger a visceral reaction I don’t completely understand. Is it a reminder of her own journey away from the church? And with my dad, a well-intentioned question can turn into an intellectual sparring match rather than fostering connection.

So, how do I bridge that divide? How do I share the most significant part of my identity without it sounding like an argument to be won or a soul to be converted?

Paul’s prayer for an “open door for the word” clarifies what I’m praying for: moments where my faith can surface naturally, without defense or pretense. I’m not looking for a spotlight, just enough trust and space to let who I am in Christ quietly speak for itself.

That’s what I’ve come to hope for with my parents: tiny, Spirit-led chances to reflect something true. I’ve started to think of these as seeds, trusting they might take root in time.

It might be a casual mention of an idea that has profoundly impacted me. Not as a tool for persuasion, but as a way of sharing something meaningful from my inner world. The emphasis isn’t on the “Christian” nature of the idea, but on the personal growth and reflection it has spurred.

It might be letting them witness my gratitude naturally. This allows them to see the genuine sense of thankfulness that now shapes my outlook.

Final Thought:

My deepest hope is that, over time, these glimpses will paint a more complete picture of who I am now. I pray for the wisdom to navigate these delicate conversations, for the patience to trust God’s timing, and for the grace to love my parents unconditionally, even when the language of faith remains unspoken between us.

Because ultimately, what I long for is not just their belief, but for them to truly know the heart that beats within this reshaped soul – a heart that loves them deeply and seeks connection, even across the divides of belief.