Behind the Door

Blog Post #1 down. Fears surrounding this experience not as strong as they were a couple days ago, haha! Now, for Blog Post #2…. As I was looking over the many things that I have written over the years, I could decide if I want to post the song that inspired the title of my blog, or if I wanted to post one of my poems.

While posting the song would be good because it would give more background, I am not quite sure I am ready to share it… maybe soon thoughJ

So with that option on the back burner, I have decided to share one of my poems. Inspiration for my poems comes from a variety of experiences and situations.

I wrote a lot of humorous poems when I went to youth conferences and camps. Certain people will remember those, haha. Maybe I will break some of them out later on down the road, wink wink.

Other more serious poems have come from people close to me passing away, or other people going through a difficult trial…

More recent ones have come from statements that got the wheels in my head turning. Turning about what I believe, why I believe it and what am I going to do about making a difference.

One statement that has always rung true and stuck close to me is this – “The church is not a museum for saints, but a hospital…for sinners.”

I love this quote. Not sure where it originated from, but I have heard my pastor use it many times over the years. What I love about it is the simplicity with which it describes our responsibility as church members and fellow Christians.

We are not here to show off how spiritual we are, or how amazing our walk with God is. We are here to tell others how amazing HE is and what HE did for us, and what HE can do for them.

Church is not a place to model how wonderful you think you are, but to worship and rejoice in how awesome and amazing HE is…

Now, before anyone gets offended, let me be the first person to say that I myself have got caught up in the museum style of church.. I am not proud of it, and I make a conscious effort to make sure that my mindset is what it should be when I walk through the doors.

Because you see, when I walk through the door, I should be expecting there to be something behind it that I need. Not only should I be expecting it, but God promised it to me. And if I am caught up with “I can’t wait to show off my new this,” or “I can’t wait to find out if so and so really went there”, then I am there for the wrong reason, and I won’t get what God has for me.

I also will not be aware of the people who come to church thinking that they don’t measure up to everyone else. The people who are there because they know they need Him, but they feel so unworthy. Because I know that He wants us just as we are, I need to be there to grow, but also to share the harvest with those who still doubt and are afraid.

The following poem is how I think some people view church, but also, how I think God wants US to view it. I hope it speaks to you the same way it did to me when the Lord laid it on my heart.

Behind the Door

I walked up to a building, and slowly climbed the stairs,

I deeply drew a final breath, I felt so unprepared.

This place I’d heard of all my life, yet never had I been,

I couldn’t measure up to them because of all my sin.

My hand it gripped the doorknob, my knuckles turning white,

Never in my life had I been filled with soo much fright.

The people waiting just inside, were far above my rank,

The thought of seeing them up close, oh my heart, it sank.

This place of awe and wonder that I was going to,

I wasn’t worthy here to stand, my terror quickly grew.

As I softly entered, and approached the check-in desk,

I raised my head with tear filled eyes, discouraged in my quest.

The Person at the desk looked down with tender care and said,

“My dear one, what is ailing you? Come, we have an extra bed.”

At once my head jerked up in shock, and I quickly looked about,

What I saw in front of me made me question, doubt,

You see I thought that I had come to marvel at the saints,

That filled the ancient halls of old, comparing all the ranks.

Instead I saw a hospital, for the wounded and the weak,

These sinners just like me had come, it was healing they did seek.

In my head I had it all confused and upside down,

I thought that healing only came to those who wore the crown.

The holy crown of righteousness that comes from perfect living,

In my mind there was no way that I could find forgiving.

But in that healing place that day, I found the love I sought,

I realized my prescriptions, they had already been bought.

The Great Physician diagnosed my sickness, healed my pain,

And in the end, when all was well, I had the greatest gain.

It’s not about your status, or positions that you hold,

It’s about a home in Heaven where you’ll walk on streets of gold.

God doesn’t want a hallway that is filled with saintly pride,

He wants a hospital of sinners, who find healing at His side.

So the next time I compare my life with others gone before,

I’ll bring to mind that day when I discovered something more.