Let down the walls that guard your heart
Maybe there, Heaven's light will heal each broken part.

Last year, I wrote those lines for a friend who was fighting his shadows.

His nightmares were closing in and I couldn’t do anything except make my heart a safe place…a haven to run to.

I learned a lot from that experience. I’m used to being the “therapist/mom” friend. I’m used to talking through peoples’ heartaches with them and unraveling the shadows. This was one of the first times when I had to face the reality that I couldn’t summon the light. My friend’s nightmares were his battles to fight and Christ’s battles to win.

Something about this truly convicted my soul. It made me wonder: what makes someone a safe place? What makes a heart feel like a refuge to a hurting soul?

The answer dawned on me slowly, softly. It took the form of several verses, a few hushed words from a friend, and a quiet reflection in my own heart.

To be a haven of light, one must spend much time with the Source of Light.

That is all.

And so, I made it my aim to “be much with Him” as Charles Spurgeon exhorted a young missionary couple to be. I soaked in His truths, so my words would be saturated with His words. I rested in His arms, so that my hugs would be full of His warmth. I was much with Him so that those who were much with me, felt a bit of Him too.

I let go of wanting to be the destination and determined to be a pit stop instead. A refuge for the sojourner. A gas station along the narrow road, with encouragement and roadmaps and time enough to listen to the tales of fellow travelers.

I made it my aim to be a small storehouse of the Light all human hearts seek.

A simple reflection of something grand.

This morning, a year later, as I opened my Bible for my daily time with Jesus, I was thinking about my desire to be a place of refuge and reflection. Flipping the pages to 1 Corinthians 4, I rested my eyes on the first verse…

“This is how one should regard us, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God.”

In the notes margin, I wrote, “does the world identify me as a steward of the mysteries of God? Would a tired traveler see me and feel a calm in their soul because of the light that radiates from me? Would a weary heart sense the peace of God resting in my spirit?”

I want to saturate my soul in the mysteries of God, so when those around me begin to wonder at Him…when they begin to crave the things of heaven…they immediately think to run to the safe place of our friendship, my home, our text messages.

I want it to always be in the back of my loved one’s minds that Rue is a refuge of the things of God.

I want to be easily identifiable as a steward of the mysteries of God.

Yet, there is a deep responsibility that comes with this and I miss it often.

When Paul wrote those words, he was in the process of chastising the Corinthian church for arguing over shallow, external things instead of breathing in the daily riches of the Spirit of God. He was telling them, you should be recognized as stewards…but you aren’t. You’ve lost sight of what matters.

Our Father delights in purifying, sanctifying, and filling the temple He has created within our souls. He is an eager Builder with a faithful hand to shape us into havens of His holiness and light.

But we must open the gates of our heart. We must choose to walk in the paths of His light. And I must wonder…am I open to Him?

So often I miss the ability to be the haven people really need because I am too busy trying to be “Martha.” I’m offering a cup of tea, fluffing pillows, sharing my opinions and advice.

People don’t need those things.

They need the God who sees them, who inclines His ear towards them, who loves them. They need the God who heals their heartaches and sings over them in their darkest night and carries them when they have lost all strength and might.

They need a haven.

So, for this moment, I pray that He would touch my heart one more time, clean the surface one more time. I pray, “whatever housekeeping needs to be done, Lord…I want it. I want to be a haven of your Light.”

And He sweeps the floors and dusts the piano. He wipes the grime and dust off the windowpanes and new light floods into the room. He cooks up a lovely, warm meal for any hungry guests, and fills the space with His sweet aroma.

He sits in the Haven and gently reminds me, “this is only a safe place, because you’ve made me the Housekeeper.”

And I smile at Him, but I don’t say a word. The whole conversation happens deep in our souls. Somehow, I know, as I hand Him the key, this is the safe place that everyone needs.

So, for all of the travelers that lose hope in this life…I want to keep my heart ready, a cozy fireplace crackling in the haven and music drifting from the piano in the corner. Because there’s a world full of weary sojourners out there and they don’t need more human hands or earthly advice. They don’t need cheap fuel that only gets them a few more miles and leaves them stranded on the side of the road. They don’t need me.

They need direction…a light in the dark.

So, I keep handing Him the keys and ask Him to keep the lights on in the refuge of my heart.

Because that’s what I want to be.

A haven.

A place where people feel safe to let down the walls that guard their heart.

And maybe there…Heaven’s light will heal each broken part.