For believers who love Jesus but are too ashamed or afraid to walk through the doors right now. You’re not alone, and you’re still welcome in His presence.
You know the parking lot well. You’ve sat in it on Sunday mornings more times than you can count — engine off, hands gripping the wheel, heart racing at the thought of walking inside.
Because if they knew… If they knew about the porn. If they knew about the bottle hidden in the garage. If they knew about the pills, the gambling, the whatever-it-is you can’t stop… they’d look at you differently. Maybe they’d pray for you (out loud, in front of everyone). Maybe they’d whisper. Maybe they’d just stop inviting you.
So you stay in the car. Or you stay home. And you hate yourself for it, because you really do love Jesus.
Listen — can I tell you something the Father whispered to me on one of those parking-lot mornings?
He is not waiting for you to get clean before He lets you come close. He’s waiting in the car with you.
David wrote this after he’d committed adultery and murder — literal capital crimes — and was still hiding from everyone:
“You have searched me, Lord, and you know me… Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.” (Psalm 139:1, 7-8)
There is no parking lot, no bedroom, no browser history, no secret stash that is outside His reach. And He is not there to shame you. He is there because He refuses to leave His kid alone in the dark.
You are still His son. You are still His daughter. You are still welcome — right now, exactly as you are.
Church might feel impossible today. That’s okay. He didn’t die to get you into a building. He died to get you back to the Father.
So if you can’t walk through those doors yet, start here instead:
- Take one honest breath.
- Whisper (or just think): “Father, I can’t face them, but I’m facing You. I’m scared and stuck, but I’m here. You see it all — and You still love me. Help me seek You first today.”
That’s church enough for this morning.
You’re not abandoned. You’re not disqualified. You’re just getting started — and He’s already proud of you for opening this page.
Tomorrow morning I’ll have a short, quiet devotional waiting for you right here. No one else has to know.
You’re safe. You’re loved. And you’re still welcome in His presence — car, couch, closet, wherever you are.
— Frank Seeking First Recovery