Open, Lord, my eyes that I may see. Open, Lord, my ears that I may hear. Open, Lord, my heart and my mind that I may understand. So shall I turn to You and be healed.
We each have dark little closets at the end of the hallways of our hearts. Where we stuff odds and bits. Cram them in tightly. Perhaps some day we will come back and sort through them. Some day. Sometimes the doors pop open, when we hurriedly brush against them. We slam them shut, quickly, but there is no pretending. All is not well.
Sometimes we hide more than old photos or curled ribbons of memories. Sometimes what is hidden away is rotted and putrid. And the stench of it haunts not only the closet and the hallway, but infiltrates our entire abode, our soul. There is no rest. And every joy is tainted.
Dear LORD. With resolve I turn to You. Because with what limited understanding that I possess, I know You and trust You, I open the doors and windows of my soul. All of them. Everything. The blood of Jesus has redeemed me. The price has been paid. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Psalm 51:7 Then may Your Holy Spirit fill me. A rushing, bubbling torrent of Your love and mercy. A spring of living water will burst forth, and flow out of my life into a lost and aching world. With much power and grace, even unto the ends of the earth.
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