The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, the way a person speaks to a friend. (Exodus 33:11)

“Blezesh zhrooom, POW.” Our grandson woke me with his jabbering.

At two years old, it’s difficult to make yourself understood, yet I knew he was recounting a game we’d played the day before. I could only grin hugely and feign comprehension.

Most of us have a need to talk through the details of our lives. We chase self-worth by telling others what we said and did. If they’ll show interest, we reason, then our life must be worthwhile.

Behind the social media revolution is a craving to converse over the minutiae of our days. But dialoguing my life with another human doesn’t bring the significance I need. Trying to meet needs apart from God always results in meaninglessness.

Man was created to live in fellowship with God. We don’t know how long Adam and Eve enjoyed intimate walks in the garden with their Creator. It ended too soon. God missed that friendship, and even more importantly, he knew how worthless our lives became without him. So his own genius found a way to solve the interruption to the divine dialogue.

There were back-to-back doors between my room and God’s. For our rooms to be joined, I had to open the door on my side, and God had to open his. With a yearning for my Maker, I opened my door with plans to knock on his, though I assumed it would be locked against my sin. I was shocked to discover that Jesus had removed God’s door from its hinges. Only my door had held us apart.

Now both doorways stand open, and each exchange in prayer, every hour of sweet communion, is holy and eternally significant. No spouse, friend, or pet can satisfy my need for acceptance. God alone fulfills my need to integrate my life with something larger.

Prayer: Father, thank you for assigning dignity to my existence.