About a year ago I was invited to go with a friend who leads an Adopt a Block Outreach in a neighborhood not far from her church. The block they chose to adopt was one riddled with topless bars, cheap motels, and run down apartments. We went through a small apartment community that day, knocking on doors--meeting "the block" and extending a hand of friendship and prayer to those who wanted it. I will never forget one door as long as I live.
We knocked and knocked, with no response. Finally, because of our persistance--a male voice answered asking us to go away. We could have easily granted his request, but you'd have to know my friend. She never leaves without speaking the love of Jesus and that day was no different. She introduced herself to the voice on the other side of the door, letting him know that we were there to offer help if he needed it and asked him to open the door so she could pray with him. No response.
Finally, she told him "If you don't want to open the door, that's ok. We're going to pray for you anyway. She and I laid hands on the door and began to pray for the man on the other side. We never heard another word from him that morning.
A few weeks later, I joined her group again. This time when we knocked--the door opened just a crack. One eye, peeking out was all we got that day--and a little conversation. The man explained that he never went outside, and he thanked us for the prayers.
About two months later, I had a free Saturday morning, so I joined my friend on her adopted block. The transformation was astounding. Now, instead of strangers knocking hoping for a response--the block crew was greated warmly from home to home. Prayer flowed freely, even neighbors joined the Saturday morning visitations--making themselves available to other neighbors in need. This time when we approached that one door, it opened. We met the voice for the first time. His apartment was dark and depressing--it was our first glimpse of the prison on the other side of the door. Again, we prayed but this time, face to face.
Several months later I found myself on the block again. This time, our arrival was greeted in the parking lot by a familiar face--one whose voice I'd grown familiar with. Not only was he outside, but he was now working for the first time in years. When we caught up with him that bright spring morning, he was painting the stair rails and jabbering excitedly about going to church.
Deliverance had come--the light of Jesus Christ was shining brightly in his face. The captive had been set free! Sometimes, we peer into the darkness and shudder. We turn away before our light has the chance to penetrate the evil and we run for the comfort of "safe" Christian environments, forgetting the power that we have to transform the darkness that surrounds us.
Evil creates a prison, shutting out all light--it's goal is to steal the life of those trapped in the darkness. But we have the key--we can unlock the prison and destroy the darkness if we just bring Jesus with us. There is someone trapped on the other side of the door waiting to be set free--waiting for the Light of the World to knock.
I challenge you to take on a bit of darkness this week. Find some place where there is no Light at all and shine, because Jesus wants to meet that person on the other side of the door
3:19 And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.