A God Who Beckons

In Revelation, scripture says that God is knocking on our doors, and if anyone hears His voice and opens the door, He will come in and eat with them. But my insides, well, they’re all tied up in doubt and grief knots. I wonder if the Lord delights in the inner workings of my heart and my thoughts. Am I creating the kind of dwelling place that my Creator would desire to inhabit? The world can be such a grim place, and sometimes I forget trust. I search for security in places that it cannot be found.

All the while, He is inviting me into the residence of His goodness. Isaiah says He reaches for me all day long. In spite of my mess, in spite of my waywardness. He longs to commune with me.

Sometimes I forget that I am known — that He is wholeheartedly in favor of me. Believing is sometimes a moment by moment battle, but each of these moments is an invitation to trust. Each moment stretches my heart farther than I thought it could go.

And sometimes, the stretching is painful. It pushes me out of my complacency, pulls me out of my good and fine and comfortable and into the messy and hard and genuine; the grace that is at the end of myself and beyond.

Each of those moments is an invitation to become more like Christ. More like the redeemer of everything it means to be human.

Perhaps I must turn down my noise in order to really hear the knock. The choice to be still is not always readily made, but that is the invitation: to open my heart to His reaching arms, and allow Him to bring peace.

Because to know that there’s nothing I can do to make Him love me more? That can sometimes be a bit anxiety inducing. But flipped, it is also the most freedom giving. To rest at His feet, and simply be.