I have spent much time at the frazzled edges of my life, floundering in feelings, confused, overwhelmed. Only recently have I become aware that I have a center: a place to come back to, where I always belong, and where my value is not hanging in the balance.

One day last November I settled in my prayer chair with a handful of stressful dreams still on my mind. I felt overwhelmed and tired, but I didn’t want to dwell on that and get bogged down. I sang quietly. Somehow I expressed a desire for companionship: I didn’t need to be happy, but to know I was not alone. And a very clear impression came to me of a simple bedroom in my heart, with Jesus in it. It was a small room, and Jesus sat on a single bed with a white bedspread. This verse came to mind: “Then Christ will make His home in your hearts as you trust in Him” (Ephesians 3:17a, NLT). And I just sat there and enjoyed His companionship for a while—I don’t know how long, maybe half an hour. We didn’t say much. Having typically felt the need to be talking —either in my head or out loud—when I sit with Jesus, this long stretch of quiet companionship was a new experience. It was lovely and life-giving, like sitting with your head on the shoulder of a loved one and just breathing in the quiet acceptance of that space.

This awareness of Jesus in me has captivated me with peaceful excitement. After that first impression I returned to the image of Jesus seated on His bed in my heart over and over. I realized there was a second bed on the wall facing Jesus’ bed, and that it was for me to rest in, or a place to sit and talk with Jesus. “Christ in me, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:27).

Somehow in this brief moment—this mental image—Jesus went from being “out there” to being “in here.” This reminds me of an experience I had last fall when I was getting quiet in the mornings: I would take a moment to pay attention to what was in my very center, and find great peace there—as if God was in me and I simply needed to pay attention. This knowing that I am centered in the love and presence of Jesus is exhilarating. It has power (He has power) over the frantic and fearful state that has often been my identity.

It’s kind of like the eye of a storm, except that the calm center trumps the destruction around it. It is the Truth, and it has the final say. This is Jesus’ bedroom in my heart: a Presence that embodies tenderness; an open door; an extra bed for me to flop down on. Chaos and lies stop at the door, because Jesus emptied Himself (Philippians 2:7, ESV) to purchase this holy space for me. And even Chaos and Evil know that this Love is the greatest power in the universe. They respect Love’s jurisdiction. (James 2:19)

I am holy (Colossians 3:12, NIRV). This holy center, like the smooth innards of a chocolate truffle, is as pleasurable as it is satisfying. Every moment, I am gifted this opportunity to “taste and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8a); to know God as provider (Philippians 4:19), identity (1 Corinthians 2:16), and refuge (Psalm 46:1).

God who is Ever-Present, Emmanuel: this is miracle of miracles. From heaven, to earth, to the hearts of humans, this Love moves always toward us, desiring intimacy, inviting little us into the holy enormity of oneness (John 17:21). And so I come to know that I am not on the fringes, not on the outside waiting to be let in, but already inside. Holy. Whole. Free from the clutches of confusion and shame. Alive.

God’s life has literally taken up residence inside me (1 John 4:15, 16). Big God living in little me (Romans 8:11). I am His home address. And He is my riches (Ephesians 3:8), my fullness (Ephesians 3:19), my friend (John 15:15), sibling (Romans 8:29, NIV), and parent (2 Corinthians 6:18)—relating to me in every way possible because I am His prize (James 1:18, NLT), His pride and joy (Hebrews 12:2).

God’s life has literally taken up residence inside you. Big God living in little you. You are His home address. And He is your riches, your fullness, your friend, sibling, and parent—relating to you in every way possible because you are His prize, His pride and joy.

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