Is He Your Guest Or Is He the Owner?



He was here! He'd moved in and life would never be the same! So thrilling and new! She prepared the best guest room, hoping he'd like it, and fluttered around, asking questions, getting to know him, waiting on him hand and foot.
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To think, he'd honored her with his presence! She could scarcely believe it. She threw a party and showed him off to some of her friends. Others she didn't invite. They wouldn't understand.
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 Days became weeks. Months. Years. He never left. He was always there, mostly in his room, but sometimes she'd invite him out to tour the rest of the house, show off a little, ask his advice.  
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But it was embarrassing. She didn't keep the rest of the house as beautifully decorated as she did his room. In fact, from the outside you couldn't even tell he lived there. Maybe he didn't mind. He never said much about it, just got a funny look on his face. It was something of a relief when he finally went back to his room and she could feel comfortable again. 

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And then one day it happened. The house was falling down around her ears. The upkeep was out of control, the responsibility too much. She'd thought having him here would make things easier, but instead, it was worse. She tried so hard to please him, but why hadn't someone told her how exhausting it would be? 
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She cast furtive glances at the guest room. She'd been afraid to ask. What if...? . No, it was fine like it was, wasn't it? He wasn't supposed to run things, just hang around and be her friend. At least that's what she'd always thought. 
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She glanced at the cracked ceiling and heard the creak of the pipes in the wall. Whatever he did couldn't be worse than this, could it? The place was going to ruin. She couldn't live like this a minute longer.
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With pounding heart, she rummaged through her file box and pulled out the one thing she'd never thought she'd part with.
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Her hands were moist as she knocked on his door. The paper rattled in her hand and to her surprise, she burst into tears as she handed it to him. 

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By the end of the week, things had changed. She now occupied the guest room and watched as he tore out walls, ripped up moldy carpet, and repainted stained walls. The place was already shaping up and the 
stress was over. Why hadn't she given him the deed a long time ago? 
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Is the Holy Spirit a guest in your life or have you given him the deed? It makes all the difference in the world. .

And that is the difference between receiving the Holy Spirit at salvation and receiving the baptism in the Holy Spirit later on.
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2 comments:

Silly Susie said...

You think of the best allegories

Lea Ann McCombs said...

Thanks, Suz! Love you.