Heart, Christ Knocking at the – Charles Spurgeon

JESUS cries, “Open to me! Open to me!” Will you not admit your Savior? You love him. He gave himself for you, he pleads for you: let him into your soul, commune with him this morning. When you turn to read his word, every promise is a knock. He says, “Come and enjoy this promise with me, for it is yes and amen in me.” Every threatening is a knock. Every precept is a knock. In outward providences every blessing which we receive through our Mediator’s intercession is a gentle knock from his pierced hand, saying, “Take this mercy, but open to me! It comes to you through me; open to me!” Every affliction is a knock at our door: that wasting sickness, that broken bone, that consumptive daughter, that rebellious child, that burning house, that shipwrecked vessel, that dishonored bill—all these are Christ’s knockings, saying, “These things are not your joys, these worldly things can afford no rest for the sole of your foot; open to me, open to me! These idols I am breaking, these joys I am removing; open to me, and find in me a solace for all your woes.” Knocking, alas! seems to be of little use to us. We are so stubborn, and so ungenerous towards our heavenly bridegroom, that he, the crucified, the immortal lover of our souls may stand and knock, and knock, and knock again, and the preacher and adversity may be his double hammer, but yet the door of the heart will not yield.