His dream house

Yesterday I listened to one of the German songs we often sing in my youthgroup back home. One line stood out to me (I’ll try to translate it, though I guess it doesn’t nail it down as precisely as the German wording did):

Eternity comes with you in our hearts,

A place where you like to live

And when I realized what I just had heard, it came to me, that my heart should be a place the Father, the King gladly lives in. A place he rejoices to call his home.

And so I started thinking about it as such: My heart as his dream house.

I’ve talked to my German 1 class a lot about dream houses- which rooms should be in theirs, furniture, view, …

What would his dream house look like?

I bet there should be rooms of forgiveness, gratitude, praise, trust, joy. A couch of peace, a storage room to be filled by his blessings, his gifts, his love. It should have a view, a huge roof window looking toward heaven, a window and a balcony of compassion and love towards people. I think most of all it should be carpeted with thankfulness, humility, the knowledge that all inside comes from him alone, not from what we can do. The door should be always open, better not even have a lock to close it. Most of all it doesn’t depend on what is inside, because he can easily fill that. He wants to bring and use his own furniture anyways, not ours.

His dream house should just be open to him.

I guess he likes to live in a place of imperfectness that is in desperate need of a creative interior designer. One with the knowledge of how to see and use the potential hidden inside.

Our designer can’t wait to make himself a home of splendor there; a palace, not because the outside looks so majestic, but because he fills the inside with himself.

When I think about it that way, I lose my fear that he might not like it very much to live in my heart. I rather get thankful, because it seems that after all it doesn’t take soo much to turn my heart into his dream house, a place where he delights to live .