To The Untamed Heart.

Her clothes scattered all over the floor, I was digging for a quick nightgown for Emmy to wear to bed when the memory came flying back to me, making its way home. When I was a little girl, my favorite thing to wear to bed after getting my nighttime bath was my dads t-shirt. Any would do, but my favorite dad-smelling tee was his heather grey softball league tee. I see myself running to find him to ask his permission to sleep in his shirt, always met with permission, being lulled to sleep against the cool summer sheets wrapped in the scent of my father, Amy Grant playing in the portable cd player on the dresser.

Its resting in what our Father says is ours, really. There is a rest that comes over us when we know we’re positioned- and maybe even moreso- we recognize He is positioned FOR us. It is a rest that comes from knowing enough of our Father’s love to ask. It is a rest, but not a sleepiness. No. It’s rest with a zest for life. Rest with joy entangled.

The following day my six-year-old Leo had decided for himself to slip into his dad’s tee after our homeschooling co-op. We came in the door, threw off our bags, and he disappeared upstairs unbeknownst to me, only noticing when I saw him asleep on the couch, wrapped in his dad’s shirt.

I don’t often talk about Leo and his intricate mind. I feel like I tend to fall quiet because he doesn’t have an official diagnosis, therefore, I feel like I don’t have the right to talk about it or that I have to wait for an official doctor given title before I say anything. But here is what we know: in his play, he would like a double shot of sensory input. He loves sitting in his corn box, just feeling it around him. He loves to organize his own things, and occasionally ours, often building magnificent displays. He goes through phases of wearing his brother’s old baseball helmet every time he’s in public- a phase we are in right now- most likely because of the pressure and security it makes him feel. Sometimes you’ll find him in the yard with one shoe on, one shoe off. You may find him in two different shoes. He eats Tyson Dino Nugs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner- “7, please,” and he would wear the same outfit every day if I would let him.

Leo wears his helmet everywhere we go.

When he saw his sister wearing his dad’s shirt to bed, it was like the possibility of wearing his dad’s shirt had never crossed his mind until now. He immediately ran upstairs and put on his dad’s polo and his dads pants to wear to bed, met with his dads, “let’s find you something better, buddy”.

He came downstairs in his dads blue t-shirt, the very shirt he decided to redress himself in after school the next day, wearing it then to his brother’s football practice and to dinner, both occasions- along with his helmet.

I want to wear that, too, dad.

Can you imagine if we were more like Leo? Meeting new parts of our Father and what He has to offer and slipping them on for good.

I want to be clothed in all the Father has. I don’t want to pick and choose. I don’t want to wear them only when it’s convenient or I feel the outfit is appropriate for the circumstance. I don’t want the inheritance I dress myself in to be determined by earth- I want it to be determined by heaven. I want to wear my helmet of salvation, my garments of praise, and my shield of faith always. Just like Leo.

When we got to Luca’s practice, Leo was tired. As he curled up on my lap and I watched the team doing practice drills through the orange cones, the line from the song came to me, “come, now is the time to worship.” It wasn’t just a song or a lyric. It was an invitation, the Father telling me that the time was now. At the Salem Community Center, sitting in the bleachers. My son on my lap, my daughter beside me playing a game. Come. Its time to worship.

As I sung and rocked my child, I didn’t fully understand what the Lord was doing or why He was asking me to do it. But I could feel His glory and His spirit rising within me with the call, knowing that He wanted me to be a gate right then and there.

Now I see it.

Worship isn’t just for Sunday mornings. It’s not just for in our homes as background noise. It’s not just for our bedrooms. It’s not just for the shower. The Psalmist wrote,

“Open up you gates! Open up, you ancient doors! Let the King of Glory in.” (Psalm 24:7)

We are the gates. We are the doors. And yes, we need to open those gates for our King of Glory during worship on Sundays. But we need to open up the gates to let the King of Glory in outside the church, too. We need to let the King of Glory in at football. We need to let the King of Glory in at the grocery store. We need to let the King of Glory in everywhere.

You are a living gate and you have the keys to the kingdom. Put on that helmet of salvation, wear those garments of praise, and walk with authority as you enter each place, knowing you will let the King of Glory in.