I stood in the doorway of my family’s new guest-room this morning, and I thought about you, friend.
Real friends open doors for each other. And that’s precisely what we’ve done, you and I. We’ve opened doors. I’ve invited you into this home, this life. And you’ve invited me into your in-boxes and hearts.
When people cross thresholds like that, they’re linked. There’s no turning back.
It’s true, we are more than pixels, more than typed letters on a screen. We are actual friends, with hitched hearts.
That’s what I was thinking as I stood there in the doorway of that room, which we’ve transformed into sleeping quarters for overnight guests. We put a white quilt on the bed, decorated the gray walls with ancestor’s photographs and great-grandma’s hats. We brought in an antique buffet and an old typewriter. Granny T’s hymnal is open to a favorite song: “I Love to Tell the Story.”
I stepped inside the room this morning, sat on the bed, smoothed out the quilt and thought about you, my guest. I’m so grateful for you, friend.
This week marks the fourth year of my blogging. I spent a lot of years chasing front-page news stories, but these days I’m chasing after the redemptive story of Christ. I still love to tell the story.
I’m in the process of writing my first book, with the fine folks at Tyndale, and you’ve made me know that it’s OK to unzip my heart. That even though real is scary, it’s better than the alternative.
You’ve been the guest, yes. But you’ve also been the most gracious host a writer could ask for … letting me enter your in-boxes and homes to talk about God’s still-amazing grace, His faithfulness and His unrelenting love for sinners.
So I sat there, in that room, all gussied-up for overnight guests. And I thanked God for you, friend.
Today, I just wanted you to know that…
“Every time you cross my mind, I break out in exclamations of thanks to God. Each exclamation is a trigger to prayer. I find myself praying for you with a glad heart.”
Philippians 1:3-4 (The Message)