You Are Welcome
"You are welcome here."
The words hang in the air as if I've waited all my life to hear them. Suddenly, I'm nearly spilling tears in the presence of a stranger but one I feel I can trust. She tells me that the one thing she wants to be known for is creating safe space for others. She to whom tragedy has been no alien wants her one life to be defined by the ministry of presence, the gift of letting others know they're lovingly held. She who knows what it's like to measure breaths as if it's likely your last...she's telling me to breathe.
And somehow, in between the sounds of her children in the background, the miles are spanned in a sacred moment as two hearts agree to trust each other with their story - to not be afraid of the broken way. And she's agreed to let her life show me the way...because she's been there, too. Wisdom pours from her soul as she speaks words I've longed to hear, and years of my life begin to make sense.
Learn to live the "Be not afraid" and you begin to become love.
The heart is like a home where the realest part of you resides, and you choose whom you will allow to come and share that place with you. It is holy and sacred ground to you because it's the place where you feel most vulnerable, known, and understood. It occurs to me as we talk, however, that we're often good at answering the doorbell of our hearts and greeting others at the door, chatting with them for a few minutes, and then telling them "good-day" but never inviting them in. Never telling them they are welcome. Never being comfortable enough to create the safe space she speaks of and allow them to cross the threshold and enter the personal place that is you. We're good at interacting superficially and being friendly - we don't turn people away - but we don't ask them in, either.
Love is an invasion.
If you don't want to be inconvenienced, interrupted, and invaded, don't make the choice to let others in.
Because the minute you let someone come into your heart-space, you invite them to do the same for you and lives intersect and we all become a sort of combined-broken and stories link and fears can be stared down in the face of Grace and Love.
And love can be its own terror because it means trusting, and faith can be a hard thing. And saying welcome can change everything because it simply has to do with believing others will accept what they find inside you.
She reminds me that people often can handle more than we think they can when it comes to discovering the hidden parts of us. And the more we invite them closer, the more it may open them up to things they don't expect. Love perfected casts out fear, and don't we all carry some fear and doubt that the house of us is too much to handle?
I find myself asking the question: what is my door saying? Am I the one whose answering the doorbell but not letting others past the doorway? Or am I creating space in my life that clearly says to a hurting world, "You are welcome here" and there is a safe place awaiting you here in my heart? Does the home of me speak of comforting things - of tea and hugs and warmth and sharing - or am I just content to greet people at the door and leave them there?
It just might change how we "people" if we saw our lives as entering places...if we invited one another past the front door and told them to come in further. We just might be surprised at who is willing to step in.
If you don't want to be inconvenienced, interrupted, and invaded, don't make the choice to let others in.
Because the minute you let someone come into your heart-space, you invite them to do the same for you and lives intersect and we all become a sort of combined-broken and stories link and fears can be stared down in the face of Grace and Love.
And love can be its own terror because it means trusting, and faith can be a hard thing. And saying welcome can change everything because it simply has to do with believing others will accept what they find inside you.
She reminds me that people often can handle more than we think they can when it comes to discovering the hidden parts of us. And the more we invite them closer, the more it may open them up to things they don't expect. Love perfected casts out fear, and don't we all carry some fear and doubt that the house of us is too much to handle?
I find myself asking the question: what is my door saying? Am I the one whose answering the doorbell but not letting others past the doorway? Or am I creating space in my life that clearly says to a hurting world, "You are welcome here" and there is a safe place awaiting you here in my heart? Does the home of me speak of comforting things - of tea and hugs and warmth and sharing - or am I just content to greet people at the door and leave them there?
It just might change how we "people" if we saw our lives as entering places...if we invited one another past the front door and told them to come in further. We just might be surprised at who is willing to step in.
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