I waited patiently for the LORD; He turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the LORD.
Pondering words like wait and acceptance my mind eventually wanders to the waiting room. It’s not a physical space as you might imagine. There are no walls, floor and ceiling; although this waiting room can feel confining and even suffocating at times.
Sometimes we wonder if we’ll ever be released. Other times we laugh because the strangest things are now funny. At times, we cry or scream or choose to get away from it all until we have to come back to the reality of this waiting place.
This place represents a chapter in our story. It’s a many-years-long chapter containing the full range of emotions associated with chronic illness. A diagnosis for which medical science has not yet discovered a cure. It’s a thief stealing a man’s career, threatening identity, and more.
Hardly anyone likes to wait. Waiting requires patience. And although patience is included by God as a fruit of His Spirit, most everyone seems to not want to ask for it. However, as we keep living and breathing and moving along the unexpected pathway of new normal, I find myself not caring so much about the wait.
I can wait for symptoms to get worse. I can wait for increases in medication. I can wait for brain surgery. I can wait for anything that would come against my dear man and take him away from me. I gladly wait with him in this waiting room. We wait patiently for the Lord.
This place where we wait is where Jesus dwells. He has heard our cry and turned toward us. He’s already been here and He knew we’d be here too. When we’ve allowed ourselves to “what-if” to the point of digging a pit, Jesus has ordered a rescue team to pull us out. Sometimes they’ve been flesh and blood people, and other times they’ve been a bit more mysterious like angels in our midst.
Even though our circumstances have not changed, I can now make out a door illuminated at the edge of our waiting room. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed it there. I imagine Jesus, who embodies light, has highlighted it for us. As I ponder life with Him, I realize it’s time. He is beckoning us to walk through this door.
It’s the door of acceptance.
My confidence is high. He’ll go ahead of us, and lead the way. The door will remain open, I imagine. He’s extending an invitation. We’ll each have to decide for ourselves whether we will accept.
Acceptance is an opportunity. To accept is to come into agreement with. To receive. I believe His invitation to walk through the door of acceptance is an opportunity to step out of our intense season of grieving. Surely, this time of waiting has been our training ground. A testing, which we will come to see as useful for refinement.
What will we find on the other side?
We will never know unless we take steps of faith. If we allow fear to rule our hearts, the darkness of a perverted imagination will keep us stuck. Yet, if we let Godly wisdom judge our options, we will choose to follow our Good Shepherd into the unknown. His promises are fulfilled in His presence.
I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in His word I put my hope. My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning.
A long time ago, I found myself waiting in the darkness of different life circumstances. The loneliness was overwhelming. On my own I had no answers. My flesh could not will it’s way to freedom.
Then too, as I cried out for help, a door was illuminated. A secure, but tender voice called my name. He asked if He could come in and dine with me. I opened that door of acceptance, and Jesus came in. He pulled me up out of my deathpit, washed me, and placed on my unworthy shoulders His robe of righteousness. He changed my name to His and sealed my heart for eternity.
We’ve dined at His table, Jesus and me. For many chapters, we’ve walked and talked, cried and laughed; He’s even carried me more days than I could ever imagine. Patiently, He’s taught me of His faithfulness to keep promises, and His trustworthiness to redeem broken places.
Jesus speaking: “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.
The door of acceptance illuminated by the Lord is a divine opportunity to follow Him. There will still be pain and sorrow in the process. And waiting will still be required at times. Jesus has never deceived us about such things. Yet He has also promised us His unfailing love. He’s promised us Himself.
His invitations have always been good. The waiting seasons have always produced the inexpressible Joy of bearing His fruit. That door illuminated just ahead, I’m going in. I think I can see us together walking through the door of acceptance.
That’s the way I see it. What do you think?
Eyes on Jesus and SHINE,
I’m joining Kate and the Five Minute Friday crew with a combination of the Friday word, wait and the Saturday word, accept. It’s always a delight to read the words so many different writers have chosen to share in conjunction with a one word theme.
Thank you for stopping by and for taking time to read my words.
2 thoughts on “The Door of Acceptance”
Lovely to read your story, Lisa
Thank you so much for coming over to read my words. I appreciate your comment and your time as they are both an encouragement to keep writing. Bless you, in the name of Jesus, Healer, Savior, and Friend.
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