Saturday, March 19, 2011

Who's Knocking?!

The Door of My Heart
                                                                                    (by Lorraine Brown, copyright 2011)

It was gentle
As if no-one was there,
Yet I heard it…
Tap, tap, tap,
And then
Another gentle tap on my front door ~
I ran to capture it before it escaped,
Hoping to see something there…
Someone standing at my threshold…
But it was gone…
Whatever it was…
As quickly as it came.
I felt the wind rushing underneath the door -
I saw leaves whirling four feet high,
A broken tree limb on the stoop…
It was just the March wind blowing in.
I returned to my chair, raised my book again…
And then once more…
Tap, tap, tap –
This time more quickly than before.
I rushed to the window,
To see…
Inside my wreath…
Three hearts being tossed to and fro,
Colliding against one another and then against the windowpane,
As if to say…
Please let us in!

Relieved that I discovered the source,
I returned to my book…
I smiled when I turned to page eight...
which began with...

“The centrality of the heart”! 
“ Come to me, Lord. Reveal yourself to my heart”!


Then the Lord said,

 Here I am! I stand at the door and knock.
If anyone hears my voice and opens the door,
I will come in and dine with him and he with me."
(Revelation 3:20) 

I scrambled to find a poem I had read long ago…
It is a powerful representation of
 The Gentleman who is knocking on the door of our hearts…
His longing for admission…
Calling to us and waiting for our answer :

"'Friend, open to Me.'
--Who is this that calls?
Nay, I am deaf as are my walls;
Cease crying, for I will not hear
Thy cry of hope or fear.

'Others were dear,
Others forsook me':

What art thou indeed
That I should heed
Thy lamentable need?
Hungry should feed,
Or stranger lodge thee here?

'Friend, My Feet bleed.
Open thy door to Me and comfort Me.'

I will not open, trouble me no more.
Go on thy way footsore,
I will not rise and open unto thee.

'Then is it nothing to thee? Open, see
Who stands to plead with thee.
Open, lest I should pass thee by, and thou
One day entreat My Face
And howl for grace,
And I be deaf as thou art now.
Open to Me.'

Then I cried out upon him: Cease,
Leave me in peace:
Fear not that I should crave
Aught thou mayst have.
Leave me in peace, yea trouble me no more,
Lest I arise and chase thee from my door.
What, shall I not be let
Alone, that thou dost vex me yet?

But all night long that voice spake urgently:
'Open to Me.'

Still harping in mine ears:
'Rise, let Me in.'

Pleading with tears:
'Open to Me that I may come to thee.'

While the dew dropped, while the dark hours were cold:
'My Feet bleed, see My Face,
See My Hands bleed that bring thee grace,
My Heart doth bleed for thee,
Open to Me.'

So till the break of day:
Then died away
That voice, in silence as of sorrow;
Then footsteps echoing like a sigh
Passed me by,
Lingering footsteps slow to pass.
On the morrow
I saw upon the grass
Each footprint marked in blood, and on my door
The mark of blood forevermore."
(Christina Georgina Rossetti's poem: Despised And Rejected)

He's at the door now…the door of our hearts…

tap, tap, tap…

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