The Miracle of Obedience

You say 'Rejoice always,' just as You told the paralyzed beggar to 'Get up. Pick up your mat and walk.' It's ironic—those commands; given to ones who absolutely, obviously, and almost comically do not have the strength to obey. And yet Your words brought the crippled one to his feet and they bring joy to my crippled heart—the one that, on its own, doesn't love, only hates; doesn't give, only steals; doesn't beat, only flatlines; the one that doesn't live, but is dying.

But those words “rejoice always” beckon forth blood which pumps and travels and fills, and it courses through this old, paralyzed beggar of a heart and causes it to beat with joy and love and peace.

Ya know, maybe obedience itself is a miracle. You tell the beggar to walk—his walk of obedience is miraculous. You called Lazarus, a dead man for 4 days, to come out of the grave and live, and He did. You told the blind man to see, and His eyes were opened. You told the deaf man's ears to be opened, and they were; His tongue was loosed in praise.

You pick the least likely, don't You?

     the paralyzed to walk

     the blind to see

     the deaf to hear

     the mute to speak

     the sick to be healed

     the fatherless to be a father or mother

     the depressed to rejoice

     the addict to release

     the prostitute to be faithful

     the criminal to be freed

     the last to be first

     the low to be raised up

     the dead to live

     a baby to save all

     A Lamb to defeat death.

I see myself in all of them—the poor beggar, the blind, the deaf, and the mute. My eyes, ears, and heart, too, are in desperate need of a miracle. I am in desperate need of Your word commands.

But maybe none of this is by ourselves and our own strength. Maybe all our hearts are old crippled beggars stuck on the dirty ground-mat that can only rise at His words “get up and walk.” Maybe joy is only a miraculous act of obedience to His words “rejoice always.”

And maybe His commands aren't constricting, but liberating. Maybe they are an invitation to experience the Divine supernatural at work in our own minds, hearts, souls, and bodies.

Maybe it all comes down to this promise from Ezekiel 36:26

“I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart.”

A responsive heart. Your words are the invitation to obedience; the invitation to the miracle. You asked the paralytic on his mat “Do you want to get well?” This question preceded the miracle. It preceded his walking and his healing and his rejoicing. Maybe that's the first step: to want to be well. Maybe that's just another way to say repentance. To want to see the Lord. To want to rejoice. To crave His goodness. And just as a good Father does, He gives to His children what good they want. The paralytic wanted to be well, he was commanded to be well, and he was well.

I look throughout the Bible and see so many healings and miracles, and I get so caught up in the excitement of the healing moment that I miss the healing process. The miracles start with a humble walk to the feet of the Healer: an admission of sickness and need--repentance. The miracle begins with a desire to be well, and a surrender to be made well. And then His commands are answered in miraculous obedience from His strength, not ours. The crippled walk, the blind see, the deaf hear, the dead live, and we are freed. We are redeemed.

“You came near when I called you, and you said 'Do not fear.' O Lord, you took up my case; you redeemed my life.” {Lamentations 3:57-58}

“Jesus answered, 'I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.'” {John 14:6}