Good morning…
One week ago today I turned in devotional thoughts to be shared with our church family. Now as a church member, the morning message appears in my inbox. Even in this one single week in the foreverness of time, I sense God illuminating more of me as I feel the growing edge of the Spirit expanding inside.
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June 11th Devotional by Sue Allen
The last time I sat close beside you at Northside Church, “Jesus Is the Light of The World” was Dr. Bill’s sermon title. An analogy he shared that morning has kept me good company ever since.
“Many of us are happy to invite Jesus into our home,” Bill said something like this. “We let the light of Christ into our foyer, into our kitchen, into our living room.”
“But,” he admitted, “all of us have a hidden back hallway dead-ending in a locked closet. Whatever lies behind that deadbolted door does not welcome in the light of Christ.”
Sharing lunch with our eighteen-year-old son following the service, I said, “You know, I have a locked closet like that.” Then I began to muse about the mess that might be lurking inside.
“Do you have a locked closet too?” I wondered aloud.
“Yeah, definitely,” he said, half chuckling. “But I’m not going to tell you what’s hiding there, and I don’t think I am ready to let Jesus inside.”
Ready. That word is essential. Any real transformation is preceded by, “I’m ready.”
Fast forward to now. We have been locked away from our old ordinary for thirteen full weeks. I flip back in my daily planner, and the last time I welcomed a weekly class of women into our home was Friday, March 13th. Friday, the 13th seems appropriate. So much has died since then.
Hemmed in with God, I begin to sense: You desire truth in the innermost being, and in the hidden part [of my heart] You will make me know wisdom (Psalm 51:6, AMP). Slowly, silently, I feel ready to walk Jesus down my hidden inner hallway. Gently unlocking my closed closet, he sheds light on intimate places of pain. Selfish places of pride. Greedy places of excess. Vulnerable places of powerlessness.
As God and I continue to clean out my clutter, words from Jesus’ most famous sermon flip on a new switch: “You are the light of [Christ to] the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house” (Matthew 5:14-15, AMP).
The sagging house of our whole world craves God’s healing light. This powerful pandemic. Our financial falling-apart. Ugly political polarization. The insidious violence of injustice. The weight of each aching loss readies us to unlock the door to our hurting shared humanity. God illuminates our innermost: “Am I ready to give Christ’s light to all who are in the house?”
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This tumultuous time in our personal and collective history feels like a time of great spiritual awakening. Ready or not, we are each pushed to examine more closely our innermost parts, parts of us that may have never before seen the light of consciousness awareness.
In our fertile moments of silent solitude, we are drawn close to our living Lord. In intimate interdependence, the Spirit of God gives us courage to walk down our hidden inner hallway. Conversing with Jesus, these words fill our hearts “But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”
“‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.”
Immediately (we) exclaim… “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:22b-24, NIV).
As our readied lips whisper, “Help me overcome,” we become aware of the growing edge between our “I believe You can,” and our “I’m not sure I believe You can heal this selfish, greedy, vulnerable part of me.”
LORD, please help us each to wait patiently and to watch closely as You shed Your healing light on our “not yet illuminated” innermost parts.
…Sue…
P.S. Thank you, Norwegian Margit Steinholt, for your beautiful photo of our arctic at midnight.
