Max Lucado started a series on Your House, which I will reproduce in the coming days. Here is the first instalment.
I only ask one thing form the LORD. This is what I want: let me live in the LORD’s house all my life.
— Psalm 27:4
I’d like to talk with you about your house. Let’s step through the front door and walk around a bit. Every so often it’s wise to do a home inspection, you know—check the roof for leaks and examine the walls for bows and the foundation for cracks. We’ll see if your kitchen cupboards are full and glance at the books on the shelves in your study.
What’s that? You think it odd that I want to look at your house? You thought this was a book on spiritual matters? It is. Forgive me, I should have been clearer. I’m not talking about your visible house of stone or sticks, wood or straw, but your invisible one of thoughts and truths and convictions and hopes. I’m talking about your spiritual house.
You have one, you know. And it’s no typical house. Conjure up your fondest notions and this house exceeds them all. A grand castle has been built for your heart. Just as a physical house exists to care for the body, so the spiritual house exists to care for your soul.
You’ve never seen a house more solid: the roof never leaks, the walls never crack, and the foundation never trembles. You’ve never seen a castle more splendid: the observatory will stretch you, the chapel will humble you, the study will direct you, and the kitchen will nourish you.
Ever lived in a house like this? Chances are you haven’t. Chances are you’ve given little thought to housing your soul. We create elaborate houses for our bodies, but our souls are relegated to a hillside shanty where the night winds chill us and the rain soaks us. Is it any wonder the world is so full of cold hearts?
Doesn’t have to be this way. We don’t have to live outside. It’s not God’s plan for your heart to roam as a Bedouin. God wants you to move in out of the cold and live … with him. Under his roof there is space available. At his table a plate is set. In his living room a wingback chair is reserved just for you. And he’d like you to take up residence in his house. Why would he want you to share his home?
Simple, he’s your Father.
You were intended to live in your Father’s house. Any place less than his is insufficient. Any place far from his is dangerous. Only the home built for your heart can protect your heart. And your Father wants you to dwell in him.
No, you didn’t misread the sentence and I didn’t miswrite it. Your Father doesn’t just ask you to live with him, he asks you to live in him. As Paul wrote, “For in him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28 NIV).
Don’t think you are separated from God, he at the top end of a great ladder, you at the other. Dismiss any thought that God is on Venus while you are on earth. Since God is Spirit (John 4:23), he is next to you: God himself is our roof. God himself is our wall. And God himself is our foundation.
Moses knew this. “LORD,” he prayed, “you have been our home since the beginning” (Ps. 90:1). What a powerful thought: God as your home.