IT'S A TWO-WAY STREET
- Burton Ashworth
- Nov 23, 2025
- 5 min read
In Genesis 28, Jacob dreams of a ladder stretching from earth to heaven, with angels ascending and descending on it. Notice the order. First, they were ascending, and then descending. It's not the other way around, as we might instinctively think. Why does this matter? Angels are messengers. They are divine couriers whose primary role is to bridge the gap between humanity and God. They don't just deliver messages from above. They carry our prayers, actions, and intentions upward as well.
Think about it like this. In the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, God says, "I will go down now, and see whether they have done altogether according to the cry of it, which is come unto me; and if not, I will know” (Genesis 18:21). Here, the divine is responding to earthly reports, showing a flow of information from below to above. Or consider the moment with Abraham on Mount Moriah, where God calls out, "Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou any thing unto him: for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me” (Genesis 22:12). It's as if our human choices and faithfulness ascend like messages, prompting a divine response.
For so many of us, our walk with God feels like a top-down affair. We imagine everything flowing from heaven to earth in the form of grace, guidance, and blessings pouring down, while we passively receive them. This perspective is comforting. It's why phrases like "The joy of the Lord is our strength" (Nehemiah 8:10) get such enthusiastic responses in church. We see it as God's spirit filling us with joy from on high, a one-way spiritual download.
But what if it's more reciprocal? What if our relationship with God is a closed loop, like a conversation where both sides speak and listen? Sadly, too often, I have seen in a professional capacity an open loop in which one spouse continually pours out love, effort, service, or affection, but nothing ever comes back. The message ascends, but no messenger descends. Over time, the giver gets exhausted, resentful, or numb. The circuit is broken.
I’ve watched couples sit in my office, stuck in open loops. I hear words like “He never says thank you.” “She never apologizes.” But when even one person starts closing the loop (thanking without being thanked first, apologizing without demanding one back), the ladder starts humming again. Joy begins to flow both ways, just like on Jacob’s ladder.
One wife told me, “The day I thanked him for taking out the trash, even though he’s supposed to do it, something shifted. He started doing it cheerfully, and now he thanks me for little things too. It’s like we both suddenly had more energy.” That’s the closed-loop miracle.
Let's explore the closed-loop concept of "the joy of the Lord” further. God offers forgiveness and mercy freely, but it's our confession and turning away from sin that completes the circuit. When we resist temptation and choose righteousness, it brings joy to God, much like a child's good behavior pleases a parent. In turn, His approval and rewards descend upon us, warming our hearts, giving us peace, and building a deep sense of security. And the loop is closed, shutting out other things that would rob our joy.
This isn't just theology. It's practical spirituality. Imagine withstanding a moment of weakness, such as refraining from gossiping or giving in to wrath, and feeling that quiet affirmation from above. It's mutual joy. It’s ours in His grace, and His in our faithfulness. The ladder isn't a one-way street. Your prayers ascend, your choices matter, and they evoke a response from the heavens (James 1:12).
Jacob was running for his life. He had lied, cheated, and stolen his brother’s blessing. Night fell in the middle of a place named Luz, a dried-up almond branch. He grabbed a stone, laid his guilty head on it, and tried to sleep. Some folks from my childhood community would say, “He made his bed hard; now let him lie in it.” That’s exactly what many of us expect when we’ve blown it in our walk with God. We see Him as placing Himself at a distance from us, giving us the silent treatment, and wanting to send His punishment upon us. We assume God has packed up and left the building because of our failures.
But that night, on a pillow of rock, God showed up. In the dream, a ladder stretched from earth to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. Messengers rising with news from a fugitive’s heart, then descending with heaven’s reply. At the top stood the Lord Himself, speaking promises Jacob had no right to hear. God was promising him land, descendants, blessing, and the staggering words, “I am with you and will keep you wherever you go.”
When Jacob woke, he was astonished. He grabbed that same cold, guilty stone pillow, the one that should have been a monument to his shame, and stood it upright. He poured oil on it and turned it into a pillar, an altar, a memorial. Then he said the words that still echo for every last one of us who has ever run from God: “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not. How dreadful is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven!” (Genesis 28:16-17) Or as another translation puts it: “The LORD is in this place, and I did not expect it.”
God did not wait for Jacob to clean himself up, find a softer pillow, or “earn” his way back. God met him exactly where he was, head on a rock, heart full of guilt, and his future uncertain. And instead of judgment, God opened a highway of grace, a two-way traffic of mercy.
The angels ascend first because our cries, our broken repentance, even our silent shame, rise to heaven before we feel worthy to send them. Then the messengers descend with forgiveness we didn’t expect, His presence we never earned, and joy that flows both ways.
So, take whatever stone you’ve been sleeping on, your hardest mistake, your deepest regret, the place you thought God had abandoned, and do what Jacob did. Stand it upright, pour oil on it, name it “Bethel” (the house of God), because the Lord is in this place, and you did not expect it.
The ladder is still there. The angels are still moving. And the God of Jacob is still astonishing runaways with grace. Have you ever felt abandoned because of a misstep? Take a moment and look around. You might discover God showing up “when” and “where” you least expect it. That low spot in your life may end up being the very gate of Heaven for you.

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