Ready for Jesus

I overheard a cute little conversation on Sunday. My brother-in-law (who is as awesome a dad as his little brother) was reading his Bible. His daughter came up and interrupted him, but instead of shooing her away (as I would probably have done), he told her about what he was reading - the story of Jesus and blind Bartimaeus.

It was a story she'd heard before, so he asked her some questions about it. "What was blind Bart doing?" he asked. I thought she was going to say "sitting on the side of the road, begging," but her exact answer was so much richer than that.
"He was ready for Jesus," she replied.

Ready.
For.
Jesus.

Blind, begging, and ready for Jesus. 

He meets us, of course, at the point of our need. Where we can't help ourselves. Where we're trapped and can do nothing but cry out to Him.

I always think of that place as the worst of circumstances. But my niece has it right. It's not. It's not. It's where we're ready for Jesus.

I heard a sermon a few weeks ago that's been ringing through my heart ever since. The preacher encouraged us in Psalm 4, to bring our anger to God, lay it all out before Him, confess with a broken and contrite heart, and just rest in His sufficiency and presence.

I don't know about you, but I struggle with anger as my big fat blind spot. It flares up ugly and strong when I feel unfairly treated, judged, self-righteous, tired, pressured ... so, yeah, pretty much all the time. But bringing my anger into God's presence has given me so much freedom from that. Not that I don't feel angry, but I don't suffer from the slow burn, the smoldering resentment, rehashed indignation. Because He really does give His peace to my broken heart.

My anger is where I'm ready for Jesus.

Yeah.

I can't beat it on my own. No matter how much someone tells me to relax or settle down, I can't change that blind rage into peace.

But He can.

Right there, where I'm blind and begging.

And maybe your blindness is something else, and you've begged God to take it away.  Maybe you, like me, have never seen it as the open door, an invitation to glory.

Instead of thrashing against it, I pray that you find hope in knowing that this is your roadside, and that is your Saviour, and you are not just blind, you are not just begging.

You are ready for Jesus.

Xo.