for my house shall be called a house of prayer

    for all peoples.

Isaiah 56:7

No time to talk today. I’m busy.

I’ve started a new job in a new town. I’ve been meeting all kinds of new people. I preached from a new pulpit. I’ve already got a new doctor.

Oh, and I’ve got a new house! It’s an old house, I suppose, the church parsonage. But my goodness have they done some work on it! It’s as if HGTV showed up and filmed a house-flipping show in our new living room. We absolutely love it.

We’ve been busy unpacking, finding places for things. Stacking books on shelves, organizing drawers, all that stuff. We’ve been here a week and have hardly taken a deep breath.

There’s one thing I’ve notice about our house, though. It’s not an issue, exactly, more of a curiosity. This house is trying to tell me something.

There’s something about the toilet handles. A rapid press of the handle just won’t engage fully. You have to press the handle down and give it just a fraction of a second, and then it works perfectly.

The garage door openers work fine, but you have to kind of push the button and hold it for a moment before it engages.

The water dispenser in the fridge is awesome. However, (you guessed it), when I stick a glass underneath the in-door spout, I have to hold it for about one-one thousand before the water starts coming out.

It’s nothing that earth shattering, but I’ve noticed those unanticipated pauses and they gave me, well, pause. In a week, I may have adjusted to all these extra moments of waiting that I’ve discovered. But then again, maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should listen to my house.

I think it’s telling me to wait. To pause. To give myself a second or two as I scurry about adjusting to my new life. A little patience. A little holiness. A little space between all the activity to let God in.

A moment for prayer, maybe. A moment to allow God to fill in all the cracks of uncertainty, or to bolster my hopes for the future. A prayer for presence, here in the actual present.

Let’s try:

“God Bless My Busyness”.

Four words, or five if you throw in a nice “Amen”. I can say that in an instant, and that’s all it takes. Thanks for the reminder, house! Does this make you a house of prayer? I think it does.

• As I press open, I’ll use the time for hoping.
• As I fill my glass, I won’t let the moment pass.
• And in my rush, I won’t forget to…

Have a great week,

Mitch