I love to talk to my children about their spiritual gifts. It’s a way that I am able to connect with them on their level, and begin to teach them how to use them.
If you are handed the most wonderful tool for woodworking , that can make perfect cuts for custom pieces but you are never taught how to use it, it’s useless right? The tool in itself is valuable to make beautiful pieces and extravagant designs , but if you are never taught its worth it may sit on the shelf in your garage.
I’ve had some special time in the mornings with Rhema while Asher is in school and Adah is napping. While chatting about different things, I asked her if there were any Angels in the living room. She replied with a smile:
” No, I told them not to come in because their feet were dirty. They don’t wear shoes Mom.”
At first I giggled and said :
” Well, I’m sure they will wipe their feet off. Ask them to come in.”
She laughed and that was the end of it. Throughout the day the sentence kept coming back to me and I asked The Lord to reveal to me why it was so heavy on my heart.
I began to see myself tidying up after the children. Almost all day. It’s what I thrive on. A clean home. In fact I moved all the toys upstairs the other day so that I wouldn’t have a mess in the living room.
Is it a mess or is it fun? Am I too uptight about the fact that everything has to be perfectly clean? Is this affecting the way my children view me?
Why do I clean up toys all day anyway? Is it for my children. Definitely not.
It’s for me.
I decided to be more laid back , and let them play freely. Build forts and clean them up at bedtime. This means more work for me when I’m ready to relax, but they are only little once. I’m an adult the rest of my life.
That wasn’t all he wanted to show me.
I’ve been to several churches in the past that made me physically nauseous . Not because of the people. Not because of the building. Not because of the Pastor or the Elders.
But the lack of His presence and the abundant amount of religion.
It makes me uncomfortable . It makes me anxious.
Why are we even here if we won’t let him move? This is his house right?
Do we not invite him in because his feet are dirty? Because he will get the floor messy and change our perfect plans? We would then have to stop the service and mop the floors right? But that would mess up the time schedule. That would mess up the plans for ” his service.”
Do we really go to church for it to be on his time, or ours?
After I wrote this I asked Rhema again :
” Are there Angels in here?”
She replied :
” Their feet are yucky but they came in .”