The Door of My Heart

I asked Jesus a simple question and I encourage any of my readers to do the same:

Show me, Lord, what does the door to my heart look like?

I see Jesus showing me my door, the door to my heart. It is like something I’ve seen in pictures. It is a red, heavy wood door. The wood is old, weathered but charming in beauty. The red isn’t bright…is subdued. It is shaped like an old church door, not square or round. More like an arched doorway that has a point at the top. There is a small window in it. I can feel the roughness of the wood.  It’s weird, cause sometimes the door looks like it’s a soothing bluish green. Antique in color. There is stonework all around the door. Like in an old church or an old garden wall. The handle dangles down but is beautiful iron work. I can twist it somehow to push the door open. There is a step, a stone step right in front of the door. Ivy grows all around the stone wall. Grass is before the step. I can even hear birds singing. I know this has to be a garden, a holy garden of worship! Oh, Lord! I am suddenly moved by the thought! Is this how you see me?

Child, you are my garden enclosed! It is what I’ve promised about you! It is what I’ve declared over you. It is not just song or script. It is truth, dear child. My locked garden, the one in whom I delight, in whom is not fault or fray. You are sealed and set apart for my enjoyment. It is ours, darling of my heart. Here in this inner chamber of you…I find MY rest.

Selah.

Why do you marvel at this? Has this not been your heart’s cry? To be the resting place of the Lord?

I can see inside now and I see Jesus on a park bench, resting with his leg up like many men sit. Hands on his knees, head back, eyes closed, smile on his face sitting under a tree. There is green grass all around, birds flying by in the distance and foreground. I can hear the sound of a stream. Yellow roses are to my left growing up a trellice near the wall. I am standing just inside the door. The stone wall is beautiful. A huge oak is growing over it, casting it’s braches over the wall.  I have to laugh at the little angel statue pouring water out into a tiny little ‘pond’ by the roses. The irony of a 'chubby cherub' in the presence of Jesus! I am running my fingers over the rock wall. There is moss. They are cool to the touch. I can hear Jesus calling me.

Child! Child come over here!

I see a stone path laid out for me. I walk towards my master but my gaze is on my feet. The stones are shaped like butterflies and flat garden stones. I see red tulips next to the path. I stop and smell them. A bee buzzes by but I am not afraid of it. I can hear Jesus laughing. A rabbit makes his way over and I pet him.

You love nature!

I look at Jesus while I pet the bunny. He is smiling, ‘Yes Lord.’ A thought is exchanged without words, one of thanks for having the bunny here.

You are welcome J Jesus smiles.

I walk over to him and sit with his arm around me. I sigh. We gaze up into the tree which grows over our heads.

Look at all the life your love has produced here child. Because of your love and devotion for me, the birds of the air have a place to rest. This tree has a place to put its roots. You have done this in partnership with me, child. Remember, my father is the vinedresser. He tends the garden of your heart but only as you allow him in.

Ah, I see!

Faith has grown in you so completely, child. I do not despise the little saplings.

We are now over by a little sapling. Jesus is on one knee tending the soil around it. It is rich, black earth. I join my hands with his in tending the little thing.

Every area of growth in your life that you tend to is precious to me, child. Do not despise the day of small beginnings. Do not grow weary in well doing. This sapling will turn into a mighty oak.

We turn and gaze at the tree that covers the park bench where we were just seated.

Yes, this tree began just as this sapling. Years ago, tiny in faith and growth. But you heeded to it. You gave place to it and made room for it, child. See, I spend time removing the weeds that wanted to choke it out before it ever really took off. You gave me permission and I was able to tend to my hearts delight.

What is this sapling, Lord?

It is new areas of faith. You heard in yourself last night that it is even I who give you faith as a gift and it is growing.

Yes, I heard that loud and clear.

Well, here it is! A baby in it’s beginning stages. But it will not take long child before this is raising the dead kind of faith! That which you long for. Oh, but child…do not be distracted in the growing process. Simply allow my love to water the soil, to weed away the doubts and insecurities, and the fears of putting your eyes on yourself and on others. In time, this will grow in to a mighty oak, child.

I see it will have blossoms! (an image of it grown with beautiful white flowers catches my eye)

Yes! It will produce fruit and fragrance, child! You are called to let the fragrance shift in the breeze. Faith is attractive. The bees will pollinate it to other trees and cause it’s blossoms to spread and grow. Faith is contagious!

So, the bees are like the angels?

They are my workers. They love to taste of the blooms of your fruit and to spread them, producing honey in the honeycomb…sweetness within from the fruits of your labor.

I can see images of them carrying ‘faith pollen’ on their wings to other gardens! This is like the power of the testimony being released like Bill Johnson has taught you. See how even his teaching has found it’s way into your garden, resulting in faith?

Yes, Lord! Wow! This is how it works for my life into others, too!

Yes, child. Fragrance and fruit. Both working together have a major impact. J