If our city had a gate and I knew Jesus was about to come in,
I’d be there to greet Him, to welcome Him in.
I’d thank Him for coming
Shower Him with praise – stating the obvious to the Ancient of Days.
I’d tell Jesus that I know He heals, comforts and mourns. That He sits with the outcasts, has compassion, serves, breaks the chains of sin and bondage, sets us free, and loves everyone.
I’d show Him the beautiful places – all of which He made –
The bay, the hills, the cliffs on His ocean’s edge.
The lavender, succulents, and calla lilies that grow wild.
The seals, the canyons, the overflowing fruit outside the markets, the tide.
I’d want Him to see what His people were doing –
serving in the hard places, painting nails, cooking hot meals, caring for their little ones, delivering groceries, reading to children, working with integrity, starting companies that make a difference and He’d know all that already.
I would still want to show Him believers meeting in small groups at churches, in homes, in coffee shops and playgrounds – speaking encouragement, holding one another up, celebrating, mourning, and every day living in community.
Starting conversations on the bus, giving smiles away, listening to co-workers, collaborating to bring about good change to His world, inviting others in, building relationships.
I’d want to show Him the hard places –
places that need His power at work and His Kingdom come. Places like our schools, our government buildings, apartments where the lonely hide and streets where the homeless abide.
The neighborhoods and alley ways where people fight for their rights without considering the rights He gave up for us all. Where tolerance is expected without consideration of the cross.
We’d finish up at my house over a cup of water, coffee or tea. I’d certainly offer Him all three.
My heart would be heavy and I’d start my confession – that I see and don’t respond. Fear and don’t believe. That I keep busy in my self-awareness and don’t always walk in His purpose for me.
And I’d imagine He would do what He does for every other soul He has tended…
He would be gentle and kind and speak His very words of wisdom.
I would drink in His forgiveness and His grace and rise up because, really, I’d just been in His presence and He in my place.
And as He left, I wouldn’t hesitate to stand at the door to my house, and
Keep the door open.
Keep calling Him in.
Keep needing Him for more.
Keep loving my own, the lost, the poor.
For He is always welcome here and I will choose today, this month to live like it more than ever before.
i’m far from a poet, but this picture in words came to me the other morning as i was seeking how to welcome Jesus in again the first of another month.
join me and others on this March 1, to welcome Jesus into our homes, our office spaces, our play spaces, our cities, and nation, our world.
stand at the doorway and invite Him in.
a simple “Jesus, You are welcomed here,” is how our month should begin.
and watch as He comes right in, to do what only He can do!
here is the link with the purpose behind this declaration: #WelcomeJesus
did you stand at your doorway and invite Him in? please share this prayer and poem that others will join us in welcoming Him here.
Deuteronomy 6:4-9: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.