Is there any vacancy?

During Lent I signed up for a devotional series that walked through the life and death of Christ.  It was an interesting devotional because it drew the story from all four gospels.  The text was arranged to tell a complete story of the Christ.  When reading on one day, I noticed that the text was actually from the birth of Christ.  

Luke 2:7 (KJV) And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

For that moment, I thought to myself, "What a curious scripture to use at Lent?"  I wasn't sure this scripture made sense considering other Lent devotionals focused on miracles, the Passover, and the prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane.  Perhaps the scripture would have remained curious unless God allowed me to consider how often we still find a world hustling and bustling, brimming and overflowing -with no room for a Savior.  

Even so many years later after that first night when Bethlehem was bustling with visitors, shop keepers, inn keepers, visitors, and leaders it still seems like the inns are full.  Even after all these years, we find Jesus waiting to be born into reflective hearts, but there is no room.  He longs to find a space in my day, a time when I pause and call out to him, he waits - but my mind says, "No Vacancy."  He tugs at the strings of my heart, but as I move between work, home, duties, chores, hassles and hobbies - "Still no room."  

I think back to my time during Lent and I realize that Jesus was there in those early moments of the day, longing to enter into the darkness and frustrations, chaos and confusion of my life.  Into darkness and despair he longed to enter, but with an "I can do it" attitude I turned the light on - "No room!"  

I'm still amazed that Christ waits for me and, for that matter, all of us.  He waits outside of hearts set on violence, and longs to speak peace.  He stands at the edge of hard hearts and longs to perform a transplant and to put a new heart into us.  I have seen him as He stands at the doorway of men, women, and children too busy getting and having to give room for God to get hold of them.  He stands and knocks on the hearts of those giving themselves away for the hope of finding true love.  He longs to give them what they truly desire, and what they will never find in back alleys, strange beds, or the smokey haze of an induced high.  Even this morning, in the middle of my day dream, I heard him break in and knock.  He asked, "When am I going to give Him room?  When will I stop dreaming and start living the life he has planned for me?"

Surely it seemed a curious scripture to include in Lent, or for that matter any time other than Christmas.  Curious, that is, until you and I realize that after all these years - there is still no room for Christ.  Curious until we recognize that, still he finds no room in our worship; still he finds no room in fasts that aren't the fasts that he desires.  Still finds no rooms in schools or assemblies, still no vacancy in marriages and at the family dinner table.  

Still God, the Eternal and Everlasting God, comes near to us and comes to the center of our story.  But does God still find no room?

Merciful God, you search for soft and malleable hearts and minds so that when you knock we may open to you and be blessed.  Too often, I too have given You no room.  May the doorway of my heart open to welcome in your love and truth.  May the rooms of my soul be opened and ready for my King to enter.  May your peace, love, grace and mercy find room in this earth - the earth that you formed years ago.

With love (& in triumph),

Cassius