6.1.17

Throw out your resume for heaven

It was a few days ago I received a knock on the door from a guy and girl, dressed really cute, and probably in their early twenties at least. They proceeded to hand me a pamphlet, pause for my response, and turn away to carry on to the next house.


I won't get into details about what the pamphlet was about but I'm sure you can guess. The first thought I had was how desperately I wanted to tell them they didn't have to work so hard. That whatever they were driving from house to house to achieve, whatever they were missing work, school, or a fun getaway with friends for didn't actually need all the striving.







I wanted to tell them to lay down the pamphlets, come inside and have a cup of coffee and rest.

Rest in the simple truth that It Is Finished.

And as I sit here writing this, my deepest hope is that they come back, so I actually can.


I want to tell them that they are enough, just as they are, right where they are. 


That they don't need a resume to get into heaven


It's never been about how many yes's I fit into my "soul bank"


That it's so much simpler than all of this. 


They get full access without ever having to knock on a door, step into a pew filled building, or without ever reading a single book.

I want to tell them that their ticket has been paid for, the gates are already held wide open, and the road has already been paved.

You are enough

Throw out everything you think you know, everything that has been crammed inside your head, and kneel down and just let go.







I just want to tell them that saying yes is enough.

I just want to tell them their seat is already saved.

I just want to tell them to throw out their resume for heaven.