Jesus is My Open Door | Revelation 3

Welcome to Real Life. An open door is a beautiful image of opportunity. A closed door means “forget about it.” Jesus uses this imagery in his message to the church in Philadelphia: 

These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David.
 What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open.[1]
David was the most beloved king of Israel. He is described as a man after God’s own heart. As such, David foreshadows Jesus as the ultimate beloved King of Kings. Jesus holds the key to open or lock the Kingdom of Heaven.

Unlike other churches he addresses in Revelation, Jesus has no rebuke for this church:
I know your deeds.
 See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut.
 I know that you have little strength,
 yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name.[2]
Jesus sees me. He knows me. He knows what I do and what I fail to do. Apart from him, I can do nothing.[3] With him, everything is possible.[4] As I follow him in obedience, he opens more doors - doors of spiritual insight, doors of ministry, and doors of spiritual strength.

I, too, have little strength. I am small, weak, and limited in my abilities and choices. I don’t have enough talent, time, money, health, education, (fill in the blank) to do great things for God. Yet, I have the power of choice. I can choose to open the door to Jesus. And Jesus holds the keys to every other door. He is limitless and all-powerful. When I invite him to work through me nothing is impossible – all barriers and limits are removed. By the power of his Spirit, I can keep his Word and live an extraordinary life that reflects Christ, not a life that denies his existence.

An open door is a beautiful image. It speaks of welcome – invitation – opportunity – the fulfillment of dreams. 

Jesus is my open door.



[1] Revelation 3:7
[2] Revelation 3:8
[3] John 15:5
[4] Matthew 19:26

Comments

  1. UnknownOctober 12, 2012 at 9:41 AM

    He uses you in beautiful ways. What a blessing for you and those of us who know you.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Thanks so much for taking the time to comment!

Popular posts from this blog

Autumn in the Neighborhood | November 2017

Image
Welcome to Real Life . It's autumn in my neighborhood. Chilly. Dark at suppertime. Winter is on its way. Before creation naps in blankets white and grey, the leaves wave their vibrant farewell! He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. (Ecclesiastes 3:11 NIV)
Read more

The Revelation of Jesus Christ | Revelation 1

Image
Welcome to  Real Life . I think I know someone. Then something happens - a crisis or joyful event - and I see that person in a whole new way. The Apostle John knew Jesus. He spent years at Jesus’ side. Then one day on the island of Patmos, John saw him in a whole new light.  John on Patmos John was one of twelve apostles of Jesus Christ. He was also one of Jesus’ closest friends on earth. After Jesus’ death and resurrection, John became a leader in the early church. He wrote five books of the New Testament: the Gospel of John ; a trio of letters titled 1 John, 2 John, and 3 John ; and the book of Revelation . The Gospel of John is his narrative of Jesus’ life. In it, we learn that Jesus is more than a prophet. He is God himself, the Creator of the world and everything in it, who put on flesh and came to earth to save us. [1] John wrote in order that we may believe Jesus is the Christ and by believing have eternal life. [2] In 1st John , we discover that “God is lo
Read more

In Loving Memory of My Sister!

Image
Welcome to Real Life . Like it or not, death is a part of real life. Theresa (Salva) Keeler September 8, 1957 - July 7, 2023 Theresa/Terre/Tess [1]  was my sister, my friend from the moment of my birth until her last breath. I don’t know how to live without a sister. I don’t want to learn. Yet, in the midst of my sadness, I am incredibly grateful God blessed me with a sister. In many ways, Terre and I were black and white. We did not look like sisters. We grew up sharing a room, and drove each other crazy with her messiness and my neatness. She was Miss Morning Sunshine. I crawled out of bed and growled. Bone deep, however, we were the same. Our foundation stones were cut from the same quarry. We were the daughters of Slovak immigrants who were fiercely proud of both their US citizenship and their Slovak heritage. Our father arrived on this continent in his thirties with little more than the clothes on his back. Our childhood was simple and carefree. My mother did not drive, so we walk
Read more