My House

by Pat Hood

One Sunday evening, our Associate Pastor asked if there was some part of our lives where we did not let God in. This is my response. I call it My House.

This is the living room. It's just like your living room. It is the room that everyone gets to see, it is always clean. Down the hall and to the left is my Room of Unfinished Work. I hope you will understand if I just point to the door. I can't let you see in there. It is full of tasks I have started and never completed. From a sweater with one sleeve, and the knitting needles still waiting for my return to a church membership directory. In fact it is so full of things I need to finish that if I dared to open the door without prayer and go in without God, the mountain of work would fall on me and I may be buried alive. It is so full that I don't believe there is room in there for me without God. So I don't ever consider going in there without Him.

The next door goes to my closet of Broken Promises. It breaks my heart. I know you don't want to see that, so I won't make you. There would not be room for you, anyway. It is like Fibber McGee's closet, so full of unkept promises that were I to open the door without prayer and venture in without God, those broken promises would tumble out on top of me and each one would break my heart, as they have already broken someone elses. So when I do go in there, I must go with God at my side, for I don't believe there is room for me unless He is there.

At the end of the hall, the stairs lead down to the basement that I call my treasury. It is full of receipts for things I could not afford, late notices I never opened, and signs of squandered money. In the corner is a little stack of coins I'm saving to give to God. It's a mess down there but if you want - no, I don't think I'll take you there. I don't go down there very often. You can tell by the stuff on the steps that I tend to toss things down there without thinking - always hoping I will have the time to go down and 'really straighten my money things out' later. In fact, I have let it get in such a mess that I don't even turn the light on when I look down. And if I were to take those stairs and go down into the depths of my treasury with out prayer and without God, the depression, the shame and the worry would be so great that I would never come up again. So I don't even consider it, because there is not enough room down there for me alone. I must only go down there with God.

Over here is my Vanity Room. Oh, you can look in the door. You can even go in, but you may not like what you see. Those mirrors will let you see yourself from all sides. - sort of the the good, the bad and the ugly. Without God beside me, in the good mirror I see all of the kind and wonderful things I have done - with Him I see that I have only been able to do them with His help. Without Him, the bad mirror reminds me of my flaws and shortcomings - with Him I see His forgiveness and His love. With Him the ugly mirror shows me the hope I have in Him - without Him only dispair is reflected in my face. So I don't dare go in this vanity room alone. It's temptations and worries are too great for me to handle on my own. But you can go in here if you want.

The last room - past the living room - is my kitchen of moldy deeds. You know, those things I've done, those experiences I've had, that I never should have and was no better for once they were over. Many of them are in cold storage in the freezer but if you want ------no, I really can't let you go in there. It is too much of a mess and it stinks in there. You see, I can't seem to stay out of my kitchen. Just like a kid at a rubbish pile, I keep going back to see if there isn't something I can salvage. Even God doesn't want to go in there. But I make Him. I take His hand and say, Look, Father. This one wasn't really so bad, remember this one? Of course He doesn't, so I remind Him all about it and break both of our hearts all over again. Or I'll dig around in the vegetable bin and pull out a really nasty deed and ask His forgiveness for it all over again. We will sit there going over these deeds and all the while He reminds me that He had forgotten and forgiven each one. But I can't go in my kitchen alone, for if I did, the stench would overwhelm me and I would lay there in my self-pity and shame till He came to take me out.

This is my house. I'm sorry I couldn't let you see more of it, but I hope you will understand. Most of my doors I can't even open on my own. You see, many years ago I finally gave God the keys to these rooms. I had to, I had no choice. I found they were too full to go into alone. And He doesn't want to go in at all. There are days that I just can't face them and I say "Lord, I can't go in there. You are going to have to do it on your own." But He doesn't. Instead we sit here, in the hall, me resting in His love, and we wait for my fear and worry to pass.

Copyright © 1996, 1997 Pat Hood All Rights Reserved

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