Heaven On The Second Floor

I'd forgotten what having your very own room felt like. When we first moved here I used to have my own downstairs room, but years later I had to give it to our cats. They were holding wild parties at night and flying into my china, splattering it all over the floor. So my room became theirs at night--they didn't mind--some evenings they even go to bed early on their own accord.

But now that our little bird has flown the coop I have my own room, my own nest, high up in our house. It's peaceful there--I walk up the steps to spend time in my room and it's like walking up Jacob's Ladder to reach Heaven. Well, ok... to me it feels that way. This summer I may even crawl out the windows and sit on the roof just outside so that I'll feel even closer to Heaven. That is, if I can still fit through the windows. Last time I was out there I was thinner than I now am. Hmm...

If I was going to publicly campaign for anything, I would probably campaign for the right of every person on Earth to have their own room. That is how much I love mine.

I run up to my room when I feel the need to run to God--and I'm noticing that is often. I walk up that Jacob's Ladder when I need extra peace. When I've watched disturbing news on TV and seen the scary direction this world is going. When I'm tired, warm and need the cool mist of God.

He is my hiding place. My refuge from a world gone wrong. And I'm thankful for the physical place He's given me to represent just how much I do need Him every single day. He makes all things beautiful, even my life in that little room with the cast-off furniture.

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