Weeks ago we invited friends over for dinner this Saturday. Then we found out that the tilers are ready to start our kitchen floor, so today the plumber disconnected our stove and shoved it into another room. Guests are coming tomorrow, and there is an ugly hole where my stove should be.
It's hard to invite God in when we're afraid to share the unfinished edges of our souls. I am reminded of a song by Greg Brown, an achingly honest lament that could have come right out of the Psalms:
Oh Lord, I have made you a place in my heart
among the rags and the bones and the dirt.
There's piles of lies, the love gone from her eyes,
and old moving boxes full of hurt.
...If I open the door, you will know that I'm poor
and my secrets are all that I own.
Oh Lord, I have made you a place in my heart
and I hope that you leave it alone.
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