Calling out to Jesus takes guts.
Matthew tells a story (20:29-34) about two blind men. They were sitting by the roadside, when they heard that Jesus was passing by. Sensing a tight window of opportunity, they cried out forcefully, “Lord, have mercy on us, son of David!”
The listening crowd rebuked the two, telling them to be silent. The beggars’ response? They cried out even louder!
And Jesus stopped.
He inquired, and they responded:
“What do you want me to do for you?”
“Lord, let our eyes be opened.”
Jesus touched their eyes and lost vision was recovered.
Calling out to Jesus takes guts.
In a recent worship service, we were singing “Faithful One”, a longtime favorite of mine. During this instance, the worship leader had us repeatedly sing the line, “I call out to You again and again,” physically driving home the time-after-time nature of our dependence upon God. Fascinatingly, yet frustratingly at times, God is the Creator and Re-Creator in perpetuity. Yet the frustration appears to be ours. His eagerness to bring healing and wholeness appears unfathomably deep to folks of flesh. So hesitate not to “call out again and again and again and again”.
Calling out to Jesus takes guts.
It takes guts because outside voices will chime in with words of deterrence:
“You really think He’s listening?”
“I’m sure God has bigger things to worry about.”
“Why do YOU deserve attention from HIM?
And if you can effectively plug your ears against the outer voices, then you must deal with the deadlier, often nastier, tones from within yourself:
“He’s tired of extending grace to you.”
“You’re not worth His efforts.”
“He doesn’t even love you—how could He?”
The path of faith contains many turns that appear counter-intuitive. Dominant portions of our beings see the logic and safety of THIS move, while sometimes-slivers feel led down another avenue. It seems silly. It feels foolish. But some small seed planted beneath our layers spurs us to cry out, to declare need, and to trust—to outrageously trust—that the goodness and graciousness of God are indeed insane enough to extend into our lives.
When we so call, Jesus stops. Vision is restored, hope is granted, and home is found.
But make no mistake: It takes guts to call out to Jesus.
Go for it, my friends.
What have you found makes it hard for you to call out to Jesus?
What barriers are prevalent at silencing your voice in this way?
Your comments below will likely speak into the life of another reader.