The Empty Chair


I felt led to revisit this blog post.  Perhaps you are needing this today.  If so, I’m praying for you…

A writing teacher once taught that to create a fictional character you have to peel away the layers to get to the heart of the person. Like an onion.  Isn’t that how we are as real human beings?

We have a layer we show to the world. You know, the face you show in a busy grocery store or at a crowded department store.  The one that says, “I may nod at you or smile, but don’t talk to me.  I’m in a hurry.”  We have another layer we show to acquaintances, those we see from time to time and maybe ask, “How are you?” as we rush in the opposite direction hoping they don’t really want to talk.  Another layer we reserve for family and friends.  We let them in but only so far as to share what we’re comfortable sharing, but we hold back the rest because it’s guarded.  It’s too personal, too fragile to let anyone see.   It’s like this tiny room we have inside of us that we keep hidden because rejection of any kind here would be nothing short of annihilation.  So we quietly lock the door and pretend we don’t hear if someone knocks.

But God gave you that tiny room.  He is very aware of its location and everything inside.  Maybe that scares you because you’ve stashed some big-time mistakes under the floorboard or crumbled up a few regrets and tossed them in the corner, and you’re afraid He’s just going to drop by sometime.  Or perhaps you think it’s such a mess in there, you think you’ve really screwed everything up, and God wouldn’t dare step inside because it’s so NOT perfect.

You couldn’t be more wrong. First, He will never come in uninvited.  Never.  He is so polite He always waits for an invitation.  And second, He designed that room.  And maybe you haven’t realized it yet, but it came furnished with two chairs.  One for you.  One for Him.

So when you’re exhausted and you come here to escape the world and all that’s wearing you down, not only do you get to rest, but you can hang out with God here. That’s what He wants; to take a seat on that empty chair and spend time with you.  Don’t worry about the mess.  Just unlock the door and let Him into that room, into that heart of yours.  Listen.  He’s knocking…and waiting for you to answer.

“Look at me. I stand at the door.  I knock.  If you hear me call and open the door, I’ll come right in and sit down to supper with you.”  (Revelation 3:20 The Message.)



You’re Invited

cakeOne day, I’m going to close my eyes and the next time I open them…well, let me put it this way…I won’t be seeing my alarm clock or my room. Ever.  This is going to happen to you too.  There is nothing we can do to stop it or prolong it when it’s our turn.  All the money, all the stuff, and all the accomplishments that seem so grand here, will stay here.

I’m sure you’ve heard all of this before. Maybe you’re reading this thinking, Blah, blah, blah. Yes, I know.  One day I’m going to die.  We all are.

But what you don’t know is when I woke up a few days ago, God told me to invite you. He even showed me a piece of cake in my mind that I received today (I LOVE how He does that!!) to help you understand something.  There’s going to be one awesome feast after we leave this earth, and one day you will leave this earth.

You can’t come to the feast unless you accept the invitation. You can’t RSVP at the door.  It will be too late.  The door will be shut.  But you can RSVP now.  Right now while you have a minute.  You don’t know, tomorrow may be the day you open your eyes and you’re not here anymore.

See that piece of cake? It’s for you.

RSVP: Please forgive me God for all the things I’ve done wrong, all the sins in my life. I do believe that Jesus Christ is Your Son and that He came to take the punishment for my sins.  Yes, Jesus.  I accept You in my life, in my heart.  And thank you for the invitation.

“For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16 NLT.)