Making Room for God
Genesis 18:1–15
Phrases that spoke to me today:
• Abraham ran from the entrance of the tent to greet them
• let me bring you a little water, that you may bathe your feet
• Abraham hastened into the tent
• Is anything too marvelous for the LORD to do?
Applying the Word to my Life:
One of my favorite movies is The Usual Suspects. In that movie Special Agent David Kujan has spent his whole life searching for a man named Keyser Soze – an international master criminal that seems to be deeply embedded in every form of organized crime. Kujan flies from New York to LA on short notice to investigate what was an apparent drug deal gone bad that left a ship exploded in the harbor and everyone involved dead. Seeing the hand of Soze in this, he gets so wrapped up in his investigation and theories that he misses the clues literally right in front of him.
Abraham could have done that with the strangers who appeared as he sat by his tent. He was not a young man. He could have stayed focused on the life he had built and the things he still wanted to see happen. If he had done that, he might have lived the rest of his days in peace, and we probably never would have heard of him.
But Abraham sees better than I probably would have. Nobody has to tell him what to do. He jumps up and runs to the strangers, welcomes them into his home, washes their feet, and prepares the fatted calf in their honor. In this one visit Abraham lives the love the father gave to the Prodigal and the service Christ gave to the Twelve – all to three strangers that happened near his home.
Abraham is living the shape of the Christian life roughly two thousand years before Christ. Before Judaism, before the Law, before the prophets, before the Gospel had been preached, Abraham is already using his gifts to welcome, serve, and make room for God. The greater story is born out of a moment that already shows us the shape of God's love.
This is the contrast between Agent Kujan and Abraham – Kujan is exceptionally talented and turned inward. His internal absorption causes him to miss the very thing that he seeks. Abraham is focused outside of himself and finds the thing he needs, but didn’t even know existed. Loving the stranger, he brings God near and loves Him.
Abraham’s love is not transactional. He is not serving because he knows what is at stake. He has no idea that this moment will open into a promise that runs through Israel, through Christ, and into the Church. He is merely serving the stranger, not knowing that salvation for all will flow from this simple act. God often comes close in ways that can be missed by a self-enclosed life, but love makes room.
This life turned outwards has an unexpected benefit. It opens us to receive God’s gifts and grace – frequently in ways that we can’t see or even comprehend. God knows the desires that lie in the depths of Abraham and Sarah’s hearts and answers them directly – with a child. A gift that is bigger than they could have imagined, large enough to even make Sarah laugh.
But even that is only the beginning. What seems large to us is small to God. Isaac is not just the answer to Abraham and Sarah’s personal longing. From him will come Israel. From Israel will come the covenant people and the life of Judaism. From that people will come Christ, and from Christ the Church with the promise of salvation.
Abraham cannot see all of that yet and the greatest parts will happen long after he is gone. He only knows that he made room for God and found himself standing inside a promise far bigger than he imagined. Through his openness, God is blessing not only one family, but the whole world.
It is one thing to say I want God close. It is another to be open enough, generous enough, and interruptible enough to recognize Him when He comes in forms I did not plan for. I can spend a lot of time asking God to bless my life while quietly protecting that life from the strangers, interruptions, and demands through which He may actually want to enter it.
And even when I do welcome His presence, I can still resist His promise. Sarah laughs because the promise sounds too large, too late, too impossible. I know that instinct too. I can make room for God as long as He stays within the boundaries of what I think is realistic. But the God Abraham welcomes is not content to remain a guest in a manageable life. He comes to begin something. If I am open to something larger than myself, God may lead me into a life far bigger than the one I had planned.
Abraham’s greatness is not that he had it all figured out. He didn’t even know who God was at the beginning. It is that he was available enough to run toward the visitation, generous enough to serve without calculation, and open enough to become part of a story bigger than himself. Some of the blessings that change the world begin when a person stops guarding his own life long enough to make room for God.
Maybe if I want to know God, I should begin by slowing down enough to truly see the person in front of me.
My Response for Today:
Today I will make room for one interruption, one person, or one need without immediately treating it like a threat to my plans.