Heading Home

Lord, I hear You knocking. I’m coming.

Come on in. It’s cold out there. Make Yourself at home. Please come in and help me renovate my home for You.

Help me clean out the closet of my hidden thoughts and throw away the trash of wrong attitudes. Dust behind the doors where preconceived ideas accumulate like cobwebs.

Sweep out the corners of my heart where the soil of unwillingness has piled up. Dig into those deep crevices of my soul where stubbornness plants its roots. Shine Your light into the dark recesses of my emotions so nothing can remain hidden from Your forgiveness.

Remove from the shelves of my mind all the negative thoughts that I cling to and replace them all with Your promises that they may be readily available whenever I need them.

Scrub down the walls that have been littered with the graffiti of my words that are dirty blemishes on Your Spirit and Your Word. Repair the cracks in the walls so that the enemy cannot ooze in with his unwanted ideas.

When spiritual unrest jams up my usefulness as a channel, rout out all the garbage of self that Your living waters may run freely, cleansing…

Fix the holes in the roof where the rains of difficulties leak in and threaten to dampen my soul-rest. Seal up the broken windows where the winds of discontent blow in so easily. Let Your joy clean the windows and give them the sparkle that the world needs to see.

Clean out the soot of wrong burning desires that have blackened my chimney. Cleanse it that it may allow the vapors of praise to rise heavenward. Rekindle the embers of my heart’s passion that have grown cold. Ignite a blazing desire to know You more, to serve You more, and to love You more.

Use my tears to mop the floor of my soul where it has been trampled upon with the muddy feet of those who would rather walk over me than to see the hurt and pain within me.

Dismantle the fences that I have unwittingly built which have kept me from reaching out to help someone or kept some hurt soul from reaching in.

Help me build on that one sure Foundation that is unshakable and can withstand all storms and disasters. Help me erect that exterior that holds all else together, using my obedience as the cement to hold Your bricks of truth in place. Make sure I pick up and use each brick so that the edifice does not become faulty, because each truth left lying on the ground is useless.

There is but one chair within these walls, and it is the throne upon which I give You the honor of sitting. When I try to sit upon it myself, shove me off! Make me land with a jolt hard enough to bring me to my senses, because it is Your throne, meant only for You.

Lord, this is Your home. Let us build it together and keep it clean together. May it always be a temple in which You may reside and can always feel proud enough to bring others to visit. May it be a monument to Your grace, Your forgiveness, and Your love.

“Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it...”