In Revelation 3:20, Jesus speaks: Behold, I'm standing at the door, knocking. If your heart is open to hear my voice and you open the door within, I will come in to you and feast with you, and you will feast with me.~The Passion Translation
Today my emotions were flat. I did not feel physically energetic. Yet I wanted to practice rejoicing, practice thanksgiving, even when I had no real enthusiasm. I began to think about where I could begin to rejoice. I thought of my own salvation, when I'd "opened the door." When I believed in what Jesus did for me. Sacrificed His life, then rose from the dead. Resurrection. The sheer joy I felt believing this truth, knowing that to believe was not about being a better person or being good enough, but rather receiving forgiveness and receiving His death and resurrection as a gift. Grace. The complete mystery and beauty of His grace. I am a steward of this mystery.
I thought, what if Jesus knocked at my door today, what would I want to say to Him. Show Him. I thought I'd first take Him to my study. I'd say, "I have many symbols of You here. I can come to this room where I write and look around, and can begin to open my mouth in praise. I'd point to the photograph of a woman, her back to the camera, gazing out to sea. "Lord, the ocean breathes your power to me. When I'm by the water and smell the salt and hear the sound of the waves, it's as if I hear your voice.
"The picture of the open gate. How you know my fond attraction for doors and gates. You are the door."
"The bench of contemplation is important to me. I only have to raise my eyes above my computer and see a photo of a bench next to the Eiffel Tower. And just to the left of that black and white photo is a color picture of me. My head thrown back, the sun glinting off rhinestones embedded in my sunglasses. I am actually looking up at the Eiffel Tower, my husband capturing in perfect timing the joy on my face. You are my High Tower. Lord, you have given me so many symbols to hold onto--to remember your love for me. To revel in your salvation. Thank you."
"There's one more," I'd say. "But it cannot be contained in this room."
"Let's walk outside." I'd point upward. "It's the sky. How I love the sky. Perhaps even more than the ocean."
"Just last week, I glanced out my office window. For a few seconds, I held my breath, mesmerized by the beauty of the sky. I took a moment to write what I observed. A cloud infused with lilac--so softly purple, I could not stop looking at it. Blue sky sat above the plume, and silvery, pale light underscored its girth. Then five birds flew across the cloud's face. A gift. And five the number of grace. I am learning grace.
I can imagine Him standing next to me, our heads raised to the sky. I'd say, "The sky reminds me of You. It is vast and always there. I want to get a journal and each day record my findings and observations. A sky journal." Your mercy and loving-kindness extend to the skies and your faithfulness to the clouds.~Psalm 36:5 (NIV).