Quiet Time: Immigration and Welcome

Heavenly Father, God of every nation and tongue,

When Peter climbed those stairs to Cornelius's house in Caesarea, the Spirit had already gone ahead of him, dismantling every wall he'd spent a lifetime building. A Jewish fisherman standing in a Roman officer's doorway — and the Holy Ghost fell on that household before Peter even finished his sermon. You didn't wait for permission. You poured out Your Spirit on people Peter would have crossed the street to avoid.

Lord, I confess that I, too, have my clean and unclean lists. I drive past the apartment complex where families speak languages I don't recognize. I scroll past stories of border crossings without letting my heart break the way Yours does. Forgive me.

Teach me what Peter finally understood: "God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears Him and does what is right is acceptable to Him." That word acceptable — it isn't tolerance, Lord. It's embrace. It's a seat at the table with bread already broken.