at the door

When I was a little girl, I had some favorite pictures of Jesus that I would just stare at.  Whenever I studied them, they seemed to transport me to another place.  There are three pictures that come to mind but one in particular was very precious to me.  It was the painting of Jesus standing at the door and knocking.  I have always loved the verse,

Behold, I stand at the door, and knock;  
If any man hear my voice, and open the door,
I will come in to him, and sup with him and he with me.  
Revelation 3:20 KJV

The way the artist portrayed the fiery warmth emanating from Jesus' heart is so inviting.  The shadows on the bushes tells us that it's nighttime.  But inviting Jesus in with His glow would light up the entire place!

When I stared at the painting as a child, I used to wish the door would open.  It bothered me that the door never opened. I wanted to know how the story ended.  What was the person in the house doing?  Did they hear the knock?  Were they on the other side of the door, thinking about opening it?  Were they trying to ignore it and turn their tv up louder?  What was going on in there?  Why was the door in the picture forever closed?

In my imagination, sometimes the door would open and I tried to imagine what would go on inside. I saw Jesus and someone eating together and laughing and sharing bread.  Not just eating in their own seat at the table, but interacting with each other, actively.  It seemed like such a pleasant place to be and I wanted to "sup" with Him so I could have fun too.

Decades later, I decided to finally answer the knocking on my own heart's door.  I had been aware of the knocking for so long but had too much fear to entertain thoughts of Jesus in my heart.  Yeah, I know how crazy that sounds.  I was actually afraid to let Jesus in because He would take away my fear and I was afraid to live without fear.  Messed up, actually.  I would lose sleep, night after night after night, struggling with God.  He would entreat me, Please let me come in.  I can take your fear away. And I would inwardly scream, "No!"  I had lived with fear for so long I didn't know how to function without it.

But one day, I was too tired to fight anymore and I let it all go.  And I have lived without fear for years now.  Some have even commented on the fact that I don't appear to fear anything.  It's true.  I can't imagine what I'd be afraid of.  Because that same Jesus who literally glows, like a burning fire, came inside and lit the entire place up with His glorious self.  In the presence of His light, all fear is driven away.

Here's a quote from a world-famous (I wish there was a sarcasm font) author that describes Jesus' entrance into her heart:

"He seems to keep pulling me toward Him.  He just won’t let up.  Every day it’s, Knock, knock.  Anybody home?  Can I come in for a bit?  The only way I know to make that knocking stop is to open the door and let Him in.  It turns out He’s an excellent Guest; He knows His way around like He built the place.  And He always leaves it cleaner than before He arrived.  As far as I’m concerned, He can just move in."  - ce galusha

Yeah, so the quote is mine, from the intro to the books I wrote in 2013 but I still love it so much because it is a perfect description of what He's doing in my heart.  And how it is so much easier to open the door than to resist.

Although it's been about 30-some years since I studied that painting of Jesus at the door, my heart still burns with questions.  Who are those inside?  Why are they not opening the door to Him?  Do they have any idea Who He is?  If they knew, they wouldn't even have a door!  

And my heart aches for Jesus who stands there calling out, Can anyone hear my voice?  Anyone?  He can hear the echoes of His solitary voice ringing out through the hollow streets of His broken heart, searching for those children whose faces He saw as He hung on the cross.  

Yes, many have answered the door and many will yet answer.  But there are so many who will not and although my heart breaks for what they are missing, I'm a 1000 times more distraught over the pain that Jesus feels over the loss.  

Can you imagine a mother having just experienced a devastating disaster, then having to search for her child through a maze of debris and destruction? "Where is my child?"  she would cry out.  Desperate to hold them and care for them, she searches, calling the child by name with no response. "Why won't my child answer me?  Surely they know my voice!"  Calling, searching, waiting, hoping that her child will hear her voice and call out, "Here I am, Mommy!"  

That is our Savior. He sifts through all the debris and destruction of our world, of our hearts, of our minds, and calls out to us, Where are you?  Why are you so far away from me?  I am your Father.  I am here to protect you.  Please let me take you home.  

I don't know why the door isn't answered in the painting.  I don't know why I didn't answer it for so many years. 

If you do not walk with Jesus; if you are not eager to meet with Him at every opportunity; if your heart is not aching to be held by Him; if His name is not daily on your lips and heart....then maybe you haven't actually opened the door yet.  I know that's a bold statement to make.  It sounds like I'm making a judgement call because not everyone worships and serves God the same way; I know.  But everyone who is in love with Him testifies to that love with evidence that assures them that they haven't left Jesus out in the cold night air. 

Yes, I invited Jesus inside a long time ago but there may still be rooms in my heart where I shut the door and do not allow Him entrance.  Like a door marked Unforgiveness...

I will make a deliberate effort to invite God into all those barred rooms. I encourage you to do likewise.