Guess Who's Coming To Dinner

I am just stubborn enough to stick with this blog.

Dramatic pause.

"Every once in a while life can be very eloquent. You go along from day to day not noticing very much, not seeing or hearing very much, and then all of a sudden, when you least expect it very often, something speaks to you with such power that it catches you off guard, makes you listen whether you want to or not. Something speaks to you out of your own life with such directness that it is as if it calls you by name and forces you to look where you have not had the heart to look before, to hear something that maybe for years you have not had the wit or the courage to hear."  Frederick Buechner from  A Room To Remember

Wisdom shouts in the street,
She lifts her voice in the square;
At the head of the noisy streets she cries out;
At the entrance of the gates in the city she utters her saying.
Blessed is the man who listens to me, (wisdom)
Watching daily at my gates,
Waiting at my doorposts.
For he who finds me finds life,
And obtains favor from the Lord 
Prov. 1:20-21, 34,35

I feel like I have a pretty good eye.  I never have too much of the ceiling in my photographs and very rarely chop off a head.

I don't over decorate.  The eye needs a place to rest.  When I used to interior design, my boss lived at Hobby Lobby and TJ Maxx and I could sense the feeling we overbought with each and every client.

I can tell when there is too much going on in the room.

Creating space is not just a decorating term. It's meant for the heart, too.

Smack dab in the middle of sprucing up the farmhouse great room,  He calls for me to search my heart and make a space for Him to rest and abide with me.

In Ken Gire's book Seeing What Is Sacred he shares this;

Jesus comes to us in a thousand ways and for a thousand reasons, all of them for our good. "Behold, " He says, "I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him, and will dine with him, and he with Me" (Revelations 3:20.)  He comes knocking on the door of our heart, any time of the night or day, and to any of us who can recognize His voice through the thickness of the wood, He makes an amazing promise.
     He promises us a meal.
     Not a lecture on nutrition.
     Not a reprimand about our eating habits.
     A meal!
He wants to eat with us.  When He comes to the door, however late He knocks, however lowly He appears in the doorway, it will be His presence that refreshes us and His words that nourish us.

Tomorrow,  I will do what is mine to do, for such a time as this.

I'll get up and get dressed.

I'll go to the doctor.

I'll touch up some paint in the great room.

I'll answer some e-mails.

I'll pay the bills.

I'll talk with my parents and text my kids.

I'll fold the wash.

I'll probably watch a bit of TV.

I will spend another day.




Today I will dine in, with Him.