Upon the initial entry into your home, you’ll feel inclined to give a guest tour. It’ll probably begin with the living room and dining room, furnished with a sofa, wall decor, armchairs, coffee tables, and side tables. Next, you’ll probably lead the way to the kitchen, where the aroma of a freshly cooked dinner enters into the nostrils of the house guest. One may or may not show the bedrooms but will, at a minimum, point them in your direction. But it is very unlikely that you would show me this one particular room in the house. It’s not the most exciting room in the house. It’s not the room where you’ll host guests or make visible to anyone—-It’s the attic.

The attic is dark and lonely. It’s a habitation for unwanted creatures: mice, raccoons, bats, and squirrels. The attic is an isolated area of the house. The hot air rising from the lower floors of a building is often retained in attics, further compounding their reputation as inhospitable environments.

And such are some of us. We have no problem displaying our Sunday best, but deep inside, the interior of our hearts and souls has become darkened and isolated because of some unhealed trauma or perhaps a besetting sin that we just haven’t quite been delivered from. Some of us have witnessed a parade of miracles take place for others, while our own personal prayers for healing and miracles seemed to have gone unanswered or ignored. It is easy to move along to the rhythm of the praise and worship song selections, and we hear the preached Word of God, but too many times, we retreat into a place of darkness and spiritual isolation—the attics of our soul.

The psalmist David lamented this state of being in Psalm 13:

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
    How long will you hide your face from me? 
How long must I take counsel in my soul
    and have sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
 
Consider and answer me, O Lord my God;
    light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death, 
lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,”
    lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.
 
But I have trusted in your steadfast love;
    my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. 
I will sing to the Lord,
    because he has dealt bountifully with me.

The initial cry of David’s predicament is focused on darkness: continuous sorrow, the sleep of death, being a constant target of the enemy. But there seems to be a refocusing on the last two verses: David declares that he has trusted in the Lord’s mercy and that his heart will rejoice in His salvation! He declares that he will sing unto the Lord because he hath dealt BOUNTIFULLY with him!

There is light at the end of the tunnel! David built an altar of praise and thanksgiving even in his darkest days.

What would happen if you were to build an altar of praise in the midst of your current predicament?
Can you be thankful in the midst of a tragedy?
Can you be content in the midst of chaos?
Can you offer up praises in the midst of your problems?
Can you sing in the midst of your storm?

I want to challenge you to build an altar in the attic because even though the attic is dark and cold, it is still an extension of the house. Even though you may feel weak, tired, and frustrated, you are still an extension of the body of Christ!

Attics are used for storage. Don’t store your anointing in an attic. Don’t store your ministry in an attic. Wipe the cobwebs off of your faith—-you are needed for what God will do in your family, community, region, and world! WE NEED YOU!

Demetrius Minor

Demetrius Minor is a minister, author, and political commentator. He is a former radio talk show host and television personality. He is also a member of the Project 21 advisory board of black conservative leaders across the United States. He and his wife, Riesa, serve on the leadership staff at Tampa Life Church in Tampa, FL.