What’s Your Heart Condition?

Did you know I have a heart condition? Don’t be alarmed. We all do.  

When our hearts are out of sync with God’s best for us, He will reveal it to you in the most inventive ways.

I knocked lightly and popped my head in Jake’s room to say goodnight. His room was a disaster area. Stacks of magazines, motorcycle paraphernalia, and a week’s worth of socks and underwear covered the floor. He had one little bitty space on his huge desk that wasn’t covered with paper or doodads or books. The bed was disheveled and the window blinds were all catawampus.

How could a kid whose brain organized data to get straight As in engineering live in this chaos?

When his face met mine, he wasn’t smiling. “Mom, got a minute to talk?”
“Sure,” I said. “Want to come downstairs?”
“Can you just come in here?”

I hesitated. See, I am not messy. My spices are alphabetized. My closet is color organized by sleeve length. The coins in my car are heads up, facing the windshield. I can tell you what’s going to be for dinner a week from Tuesday. Being in his room makes my brain freeze and my hands twitch.

I noticed his T-shirt as I picked my way around the obstacles.

It read:
ORGANIZED PEOPLE
ARE JUST TOO LAZY
TO LOOK FOR STUFF.

I wondered how much a dumpster would cost as I pushed the clutter on his bed aside to make a spot to sit down.

As I listened to his troubles, it was all I could do to concentrate on the conversation. When my wisdom was dispensed and his axis rebalanced, I made my exit from his messy boy-cave.

Walking down the hall I grumbled to myself about the decade-lost battle with him over the disorderliness of his room.

I had just hit my grumblin’ stride when I experienced an unexpected check in my spirit. I recognized that voice immediately. It was God.

That’s how I feel in your heart, Robyn. You are so busy being tidy and organized that I can’t get find any space for us to talk.

Ouch!

My son’s bedroom was a mess, but the condition of his heart was tender and compassionate. My house was spotless, but my heart’s condition was in need of a good cleaning!  

Which would I rather have? A heart that welcomes God’s presence or a house that’s shipshape? I’m sure it’s possible to have both, but when I have to choose, it’s going to be a heart that welcomes God’s presence.

How about you? Does the condition of your heart make God feel welcome to come in for a chat or are you so busy with life that there is no space?

Scripture: Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it. Proverbs 4:23

Prayer: Holy Spirit, thank you for your gentle correction. More than anything I want to be open to you. In Jesus Name, Amen. 

2 Comments

  1. Linda Robertson on September 10, 2018 at 8:34 pm

    Thanks for the reading. I’m behind in your emails from when you came to Maranatha. And of course, I haven’t read all of your book yet. . . You wouldn’t want to come into my house. My husband left me 31 years ago, and some years after that my son got married and they established (after a few years) their own Christian home. An incident happened with him and my oldest grandson, which actually never happened, but he and his wife believed it did. So they cut me off from having my grandsons here, and I gave up on caring for my house. I am a caregiver (not as a job) for others, but I don’t have any desire to do that for myself. I got married fo life, but my husband left me for another life and wife, and I’ve always wondered why I didn’t deserve to have a ’til death do you part marriage. I am very lonely and would love to be married to a caring, loving, emotionally supportive Christian man. But, why has it never happened. ?. I’ll stop for today, but I’m glad you’re there and you care.

    • Robyn Dykstra on September 11, 2018 at 12:06 am

      Hey Linda,
      What a tough spot. So sorry.
      What I can tell you is that you have to take care of YOU!
      If you have no interest, maybe you need to talk to someone who can lead you out of that awful state of mind.

      Praying you get your WANT to back.

      Love
      Robyn

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