So we're going to keep our doors open.
I prayed over this table. Over those two chairs. I asked for communion to happen here, for hearts to feel safe. Because vulnerability can't happen until heart's feel safe, and trust can't happen until heart's feel safe. It's been a long week already but it's a Tuesday night and I'm baking chicken, because I'm usually baking chicken, so I send a quick text out "I'm making dinner, are you hungry?"
I like my space, my routines, my constants and my rest. I'm an introvert as the outgoings like to call me. But I know Jesus shows up when we push ourselves aside, open our doors and say: you are welcome here. And what I know my heart needs more than my comfortable little box of life, is for a heavenly Father to show up in my home and heal hearts.
Aquila and Priscilla. This gently-fierce example of a couple that treasures the Gospel. They change lives, the course of history for the apostles, because they opened their home and made heart's feel safe. "Some of us will never be powerful preachers, but we can be faithful students of the Word, and our homes can be open to people whose hearts are hungry to hear the Word."
So we're going to keep our doors open. Our table ready for all the chairs we can pull up around it. The air mattress on standby, and that pizza place down the street on speed dial (in case we run out of chicken). The Lord says everything is ours in Him. All the love, all the joy, all the peace, all the patience, all the kindness, all the everything... because Jesus is ours. And so we have everything to give.
Come over. We have chicken. And a whole lot of Jesus.