When I moved my family to Indianapolis we became members of a large and prestigious church on the far north side. Although still on the roster, we now attend a smaller more Christ centered house of worship filled with the Holy Spirit.
On occasion I stop by the original church, enter a side door and silently climb the few steps to the entrance of a small chapel dedicated to a retired minister best known for his kindly and gentle heart. It is a place of warmth and comfort, for peace and rest, knowing I am in God’s earthly home.
Today I decided to stop and give thanks to my Lord for the past years blessings and to ask for His encouragement during the next 365 days. Only one problem, the door to the chapel was locked. What a desperate and lonely feeling turning the unforgiving handle without results.
My separation at that moment was of course brief, as it was symbolic. I pray my faith in Christ is stronger than any closed doorway although for an instant I saw myself divided from Him and pleading for acceptance into His Kingdom and His promise for eternal life.
As I left and walked across the parking lot I realized how God reminds us daily of His presence if only we would listen quietly for the message. I see Him holding out His open palms to this sinner, and I climb onto His lap, as would a small child. I then imagine how tightly He holds me in His protective and forgiving arms seeking to be my friend.
While driving home I found myself reflecting upon the assurance of His grace and love knowing I will stand before the chapel door again and He will answer, locked or not.