Wanted for Christmas: Christians with Dirty Houses
Design drawing for stained glass memorial window, The Light of the World, circa 1907. Inspired by William Holman Hunt’s iconic depiction of Christ knocking at the door, this watercolor by J. & R. Lamb Studios references Revelation 3:20: 'Behold, I stand at the door and knock...'. The absence of an external door handle symbolizes Christ’s invitation—He waits to be welcomed into our hearts. Commissioned during the early 20th century, this design echoes the timeless message of faith and surrender. (Library of Congress, J. & R. Lamb Studios Archive).
We’ve all seen the iconic image of Jesus standing at the door and knocking. Maybe it’s in a stained glass window or an old print in a church hallway. You’ve probably heard someone explain how there’s no doorknob on the outside of that door—Jesus won’t force His way in. He waits patiently for us to open it, no matter what’s on the other side.
But let’s talk about what’s on the other side.
Around the holidays, our homes can be a source of stress. Christmas is just a week away, and many of us are bracing for visitors—scrubbing floors, tidying clutter, and obsessing over the state of our guest bathrooms. If you’re like me, you may find yourself worrying about how things appear to others.
Here’s the truth: Jesus doesn’t wait for your house—or your heart—to be spotless before He steps in. In fact, He specializes in dirty houses and messy lives. That’s His thing.
Messy Floors, Messy Hearts
Let me tell you about where I live. It’s a little bitty trailer at a campground. It’s cozy, it’s home, but it’s messy—thanks to me and Frankie, my 60-pound walking dirt mop of a doodle. I do my best to keep things clean and tidy, but the floors? I’ve had to let go of the idea of perfection there.
Still, I catch myself sometimes. If I’m being particularly hard on myself—about my home, my life, my shortcomings—I start nitpicking. I start to feel like I need to get everything just right before I can invite Jesus in.
But here’s the thing: Jesus isn’t waiting for us to get things right. He’s not the kind of guest who cares if the floor is clean or the dishes are done. He’s the kind of friend who loves you so much, you don’t even worry about tidying up when He comes over to hang out.
Letting Jesus Into Every Room
It’s easy to let Jesus into the “presentable” parts of our lives—the rooms we’ve cleaned up. But what about the messy ones? The addiction? The shame-filled relationship? The disappointments we’d rather not talk about?
Psalm 139 reminds us that God already knows every detail about us: "You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You perceive my thoughts from afar. You are familiar with all my ways." There is nothing about us—no messy room, no hidden corner—that surprises Him. And here’s the most beautiful part: He loves us completely anyway.
He doesn’t just want the polished parts of our hearts. He wants it all.
Abba, Father
“I Stand and Knock” icon, origin unknown.
For so many years, I missed the depth of God’s love. I prayed to Jesus; I knew He loved me—I’d been told that since I was a child. But the idea of God as a loving Father didn’t fully connect for me.
When the Bible refers to God as Abba, it’s pointing to an intimate, relational love. This isn’t a formal “Father.” It’s the kind of Dad you can take a mountain walk with, or sit with by the fire, wrapped in the safety of His love.
I think about my relationship with my son Caleb. I love him so much! But my love is imperfect. It’s been clouded by my moods, my flaws, my anger. God’s love isn’t like that. It’s perfect, infinite, and complete.
The Prodigal Son story reminds us of this: The father didn’t care about the mess his son brought home. He only cared that the son came back. That’s the love God has for us.
Born in the Mess
This time of year, it’s worth remembering where Jesus Himself entered the world—not in a pristine palace, but in a messy stable. God didn’t choose a clean environment for the birth of His Son. He stepped right into the dirt and chaos of humanity.
The nativity reminds us that Jesus doesn’t shy away from our mess. He was born into it, lived among it, and offers to transform it—not by judgment, but by love.
A Mindful Invitation
Here’s an idea: If you’re feeling overwhelmed by your “mess,” try capturing it through mindful photography. Take a photo of your less-than-perfect kitchen or that pile of laundry you can’t seem to get to. Or, take a metaphorical shot of the “messy” parts of your life—your broken relationships, your struggles, your doubts.
Then send God a message:
Abba Father, the place is a mess. But if you’d like to come over for Christmas, I’d sure like to have You. And if You’re in the miracle-working mood, feel free to snap Your fingers and clean the place up. But either way, the door’s open.
Remember, Jesus is already standing at the door and knocking. The only thing left is to let Him in—messy floors, messy hearts, and all.
Blessings,
Joe
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