Dear Lord, my office is a holy mess – coloring sheets, shovels, mission project donations, books, bulletins, bubble machine, folders, missionary newsletters. God, you are here, waiting, in all of it. I look around and see doors to you. We put them up around the church, hoping that someone, a child, a mother, an alcoholic, a fiance, a teenager, a teacher, might try the door and find that behind it is you – just a bit of you. Like Moses squinting through closed eyes to see your back as you passed by. Like the jars that danced between the sacrifice. Like a tower of light, a pillar of cloud. Just a bit of you, hoping that we will be back again to know you better, to know more of you. Builder and Sustainer, help me to construct good doors today, doors that will help us be curious about your kingdom, your face, your hands, your people, and your friendship.



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