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“You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.” (Ps 32:7)

“Surely, things could not get worse.”, Paul thought to himself as he cuddled in a fetal position on the sofa. It was 10am already, but he did not have an iota of energy to get up.

He had stayed up late into the night pondering the series of events that had left him with no single cent in his pocket and having to keep evading creditors. The last one that had broken the camel’s back was an investment in cryptocurrency that had gone burst.

“Knock, knock”, came the sound from the door. “I am not going to open that door.”, Paul said to himself as a matter of fact. “Knock, knock”, came the sound again, this time Paul took a cushion and covered his face with it as if that will make the person knocking go away.

Then the knock came the third time, this time Paul decided to check who it was. He walked to the door holding his breath as to who it was this time.

He peeped through the key hole before opening and noticed that it was somebody he was sure he had not met. That made him relax a bit, albeit curious to know how a stranger had the boldness to insist on knocking without giving up. “How did he know that I was inside?” Paul wondered to himself.

Opening the door, the build and form of the strange visitor was more clearer than it had been through the pin hole. He was not particularly attractive, but had some aura of peacefulness (if there is such a word) that made him inviting.

At first he had struck Paul like one that needed his help, but a second look on his eyes revealed some tenderness that melted Paul’s barriers.

The smile in the man’s face had such genuineness that Paul just could not help but invite him inside. He found himself ushering his visitor inside, only to realize that he had earlier taken the single chair he had in his house to his study table in his bedroom.

The lone sofa did not seem appropriate for the guest because it had pillows all over, not to mention crumbs from his half eaten crisps that were his miserable dinner the previous evening.

Curiously, the visitor did not seem any way disturbed by the state of Paul’s house. As Paul went to his bedroom to pick the chair, the visitor waited admiringly at the entrance. His eyes never seemed to leave Paul as he observed him and around the room at some wall hangings Paul had put up.

By the time Paul came back with a chair, the room had been arranged in a better setting.

The small coffee table had been set in front of the sofa with some smaller stools at the edges. Paul set the chair on the opposite side of the sofa across the coffee table and invited his visitor to sit down.

As the visitor sat down, it hit Paul that it had not even occurred to him to say a word, even to ask who the visitor was or what his mission was. There seemed to be unspoken communication from his aura that he was up to some good.

As the visitor sat down, he immediately started to open a bag he had carried on his side, one that Paul had somehow not noticed up to now.

The first thing he brought out of the bag, to Paul’s great surprise was a clean crisp table cloth that he overlaid the table with. Next, he brought out two packets of packed lunch, and then a bottle of wine, and two clean glasses.

All this while, there had been no word spoken from either Paul or his guest. They both seemed to prefer communicating by action and observation. Top on Paul’s mind was how all that set on the table had fitted in that ugly looking, small bag that he had barely noticed earlier.

As the guest invited Paul to the meal he did not have words and started to pick a fork, still with eyes gazed on his visitor. With fork on one hand and his other hand on the sofa as if going to stand up, he started looking the visitor straight into his eyes.

The visitor was looking back at him while he noticed something interesting. It was as if as they looked into each other’s eyes, Paul on his part was feeling like he’s entering into the visitor, the way one enters a house, and on the other hand , the visitors eyes felt like they were exploring his inner most being.

Paul felt like his life was being laid bare in the eyes of the visitor, as if he had known him all his life. On his part, the more Paul looked into the eyes of the visitor, the more he felt like he’s getting to know him.

The aura he sensed in the beginning started to take different dimensions the more he gazed at his eyes. Paul realized that the aura or fragrance the visitor had was part of his character, in the very first sense was love, then peace, then forgiveness, then joy. The more Paul gazed at his visitor, the more these character traits began being reflected in the visitor.

Paul started enjoying the experience so much he forgot about the food. Time seemed to freeze with the calmness that flooded Paul’s heart. The anxiety that he had at first before opening the door to the visitor not knowing what he had come to do was all gone. It did not matter any more what had brought the visitor to his house. All he knew was that he could stay forever if he wanted.

It was several hours before Paul could come out of his hiding place. But not before some words started flooding his heart and mind as he gazed intently on his somehow strange visitor;

1. He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress;
My God, in Him I will trust.”….(Psalms 91)

Paul’s experience with his visitor ended gradually when he started hearing a call to evening prayers from the local worship hall. As he started being conscious of his environment, he realized that he was no longer sitting up but rather lying on the sofa.

He had set down the folk and the lunch was still set as it had been. The only surprise is that the visitor was no longer there. He was for a moment a little confused by the experience. He did not know whether it was a dream or a real experience, but then the set table spoke volumes.

Just then, a knock from the door again got him up from the seat. This time round he was not afraid to open the door. He had some renewed confidence that whatever it was, he could handle it with the assurances from the hiding place.

Beloved, there is a place of refuge available for you and me. That place is actually a person, Christ our promised land. Available not just to visit, but also to abide. Christ in you and you in Him.

Christ in you the hope of glory. What a mystery!