In His House

In His House

I enter Unwind my scarf Kick off my boots And am embraced by the aromas of

Caramel-spice tea Leather Chimney smoke Venison stew And tranquility.

“I’ve been waiting for you!" He beams,

His twinkling eyes the same mahogany

As His flannel shirt. “What took you so long?”

I brave a smile, But my face shatters,

And tears hit my cheeks.

“Oh, dear,” He says, Peppery eyebrows knotting together.

“Let’s sit down, shall we?”

He leads me to A musty wingback chair by the hearth

And brings me a tray With the tea and stew I love so much.

Then He settles across from me On the old calico couch And waits.

I twist my fingers

Ashamed to voice What He already knows.

But I breathe deep, and blurt:

“I don’t belong here. I don’t see why You let me drink Your drink and feast on Your food,

Laugh with You and be warmed by Your fire, When I’m just a child. A stupid, selfish child Who could never repay You for Your generosity.

“You have everything, And I am nothing. So why do You put up with me Time and time again When You should be entertaining finer company?”

I fall silent My own words piercing me Like jagged knives of condemnation.

I fear His response.

Much to my surprise, He wraps His arms around me, His weathered hands warm on my back. I feel my heart slow As acceptance courses through my bones.

“My dear,” He whispers. “I could share my house with anyone.

But I want to share it with you. So keep coming over Because there’s nothing I love more

Than simply being with you.”

Story behind the poem: This poem is one of my favorites I've ever written, mainly because I sensed God's presence and felt His warmth and peace so strongly while writing it. If I could choose one word to describe what it was like to work on this poem, I would pick delightful. I hope this poem inspires you as much as it inspired me, and that You feel His nearness as tangibly as I did while working on it. God really does want to spend time with you, and I hope reading this reminds you of that.