I am in Liberia. I wake up early before the sun. I tiptoe through the living area, slowly opening curtain after curtain. The shut-up room is pregnant with the African night’s thick air. No movement. With each curtain sliding and window opening, a fresh, salty breeze bursts through leftover remnants of last night’s downpour. I cannot wait to sit on the porch, but I cannot get out. I am stuck. Iron protection covers the door. As much as I try, I cannot get the lock to turn. The years of salty air have corroded the simple mechanism that comes between me and freedom. My fingers hurt from the effort to turn the lock until I admit defeat. I make my cup of tea. I set up the two white plastic chairs, sticking them right in front of the rebellious door. I do feel the breeze. I do get pale light filtering in. Yet it is not the same. As I stare at the key in the lock, God’s word dances to my consciousness.
Behold, I stand at the door and knock.
My fingers quickly follow my thoughts as I turn to Revelation 3, where my eyes take in the context.
The Amen, the faithful and true witness, the source of God’s creation, says this: “I know your works; I know that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. For you say, ‘I am rich and affluent and have no need of anything,’ and yet do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. I advise you to buy from me gold refined by fire so that you may be rich, and white garments to put on so that your shameful nakedness may not be exposed, and buy ointment to smear on your eyes so that you may see. Those whom I love, I reprove and chastise. Be earnest, therefore, and repent. Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will enter his house and dine with him, and he with me. I will give the victor the right to sit with me on my throne, as I myself first won the victory and sit with my Father on his throne. Whoever has ears ought to hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” - Revelation 3:14-22
The sealed letter is opened, revealing burning words as church after church is exposed. I have often read the letter to Laodicea with eyes towards my own homeland, the States. Where we surely live as if we are rich and have no need of anything, even if we don’t recognize or admit it. We are not hot, we are not cold, our tepid souls stagnant, consumed with self-comfort and want. And this is the church, Christ’s body. As much as I can look outward, I must start with my own heart. I confess I’ve been a Christian all my life, and the temperature of my soul seems unknown. I am rich. I am rich in the literal sense—with a bank account exceeding my daily needs and more, with many other outward signs of wealth. Yes… I do own a boat. Are these outward pockets of wealth simply hiding my wretchedness?
In this trip across the world, I have been praying for sight. To behold. To see God and what He is doing on earth in my time and place. Could I be the one who is wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked? Perhaps that is where I need to start. To acknowledge that no amount of wealth or fame or worldly glory can change that.
There is another way: gold refined by fire, white garments clothing my body, oil anointing my eyes. Yes, Lord, I want all of these. Will I give up the rest for this? Perhaps, like the rich young ruler, we all must come to this question. Would we exchange this worldly wealth for the treasures of Heaven?
I recently heard that to purify gold and remove the dross, the craftsman would subject the gold to blazing heat until all the impurities are removed. How would he know when this process has happened? When the gold becomes clear…reflective. Refinement occurs when the reflection of the creator is seen on the gold. Gold refined by fire, a reflection of our creator.
That. That is what I desire.
Behold, He knocks. And like the stubborn door of my morning, sometimes the doors of our hearts feel rusted shut. Sometimes we feel helpless and weak in our own ability. My husband Andrew wakes up, and in the seconds it takes me to boil some water for his coffee, I turn to see the door wide open, chairs outside. How did he do it so quickly? Sometimes we need the strength of another to open these stubborn places.
Perhaps my need for brother Romeo and this beautiful church family in Africa is greater than their need for me. I certainly know that as Christ’s body in America, we need the strength of each other to make way for Christ to come in and to sit with us, to dine with us, and to bring victory over every door of bondage. Yes, Lord Jesus, come. And yes, church.. it is our time to turn that stubborn key and swing wide these ancient gates to let the King of glory come in.
Andrew and Lauren partner with Pastor Romeo Peters in Monrovia, Liberia, in a relationship-centered, grassroots ministry that is still in its early years. Pastor Romeo oversees multiple churches and is the founder and proprietor of Lord’s Dwelling Place Christian Academy (LODEPCA), which provides a safe, Christ-centered education for children from preschool through high school. At the heart of the ministry is a deep love for “the least of these,” especially orphans, as they meet practical needs, foster a secure and nurturing environment, and provide clean water through a community well. With a God-given vision for the future, Pastor Romeo believes this is only the beginning of what the Lord will accomplish. For ways to get involved and to learn about a unique, timely opportunity, click here!
You. Are. SO... priceless!!! 😇🙏❤️❤️❤️