Did John the Baptist have to choose to believe in Jesus?
The man sat in the dark pit, his long hair tangled and hanging about his shoulders. He ate simple food: insects and water.
Taunting prison guards probably let his friends visit; he passed a message to the outside world.
He thought he knew his purpose. The man believed God called him to say the words that sprang to his lips.
He defied authorities and called out truth to the governor. People flocked to hear him, to see him, to have him pour water over their heads.
“Repent,” he said. “For the Kingdom of God is near.”
Zeal for God consumed him until he became no more than a voice crying out in the wilderness.
One day it all changed.
Did he choose not to believe?
Out of the crowds who came from the capital– wealthy businessmen, spiritual leaders, soldiers and the common people–a man walked and asked to be baptized.
John could not believe his eyes. This was the man he had anticipated for so very long.
“I’m not worthy.”
“It is fitting.”
Into the water the man went, baptized for sin?
The heavens rumbled when he came up. John heard the words and others glanced among themselves. Did we really hear that? Could it be true?
Could he believe this really was the Messiah?
Jesus returned to Galilee and John continued to baptize until the day the authorities arrested him.
He sat in the dark and wondered what had happened to the promised Kingdom of God. Had he misunderstood? Was his sacrifice futile? Wasn’t Jesus the Messiah, or should he have looked for another?
His friends took the question to Jesus, who heard them out and spread his arms. “Go and tell John what you see: the lame walk, the blind see and the dead are raised to life.”
Clear as mud, as usual, Jesus.
As the friends returned to John with the description, Jesus bestowed his blessing: John is Elijah. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
What do you expect God to do with your life and your offerings?
What do you do when your expectations do not match your experience?
If you pray about your husband’s job–that God’s will should be done since you know things are difficult–and he loses his job, what does that say about your faith?
I figured it this way: either God’s plan involved my husband losing his job or there was no God.
Some people will choose the “no God” option, but I could not.
I had seen God do too many things in my life in answer to prayer. I could not decide there was no God.
But like John, did I misunderstand?
Is a setback an opportunity to choose to believe God is in control?
Don’t we all get a choice in our everyday life? The choice to believe God is at work or not?
How did John feel when the friends returned with descriptions of what Jesus was doing?
Would that have been enough for John?
Would it be enough for you?
My husband got another job. He lost a job. He got another job. He’s done well for years.
But I have never forgotten the sinking, sick-in-the-gut feeling when my expectation, my faith in what our purpose in life was for, was disappointed.
Had God deserted us?
Of course not.
He just took us on a slightly different path than we expected.
Had John the Baptist pegged Jesus correctly? Was He the Messiah?
What did Jesus do?
He established the Kingdom of God by healing people and setting free those captive to sin. Raised others–and then himself–from the dead.
Just like the prophecies said.
John just had to meditate on the Scriptures a little differently than his expectations.
Through God’s prism, say, rather than his own.
Tweetables
What do you do when your expectations do not match your experience? Click to Tweet
Is every setback an opportunity to choose to believe God is in control? Click to Tweet
Gosh, yes!
Losing my job and career, and developing what I’m told is a terminal illness certainly wasn’t in my plan.
But it was in God’s plan, and I’m willing to take His hand and walk through this dark passage. I can’t see through to the dawn, but He’s tall enough to see over that far horizon, to where, Look! the sun is rising.
It may rise on my death. That’s okay. It rose on His Son’s death, too, so I’ll be in good company.
To Him, the glory.
To Him, my heart.
Andrew–
You look like a young man. This is unexpected for you; not supposed to happen. Maybe the unexpected part is that Jesus chose you to be one of his especially anointed ones to declare his glory in this dramatic fashion. Through this affliction, this diagnosis, this enemy.
You would not be able to write what you’ve written, had there not been a deep encounter with the Lord … had there not been those of the company of faith who pray for you, perhaps have taught you and encouraged you–long before you were given this diagnosis.
Consider this: that it’s about 2,000 years ago and you are selected to appear before thousands for their special interest. The place is the Roman Coliseum. No need for a doctor to examine you. Because if you were at that place at that time, you would know. Just as you know now.
I think of the recitation of the names of the heroes of faith in Hebrews 11. Though unnamed, you, Andrew, are part of that great company. I ask for God to give you continued courage, to deepen your faith. Though you’re not in the Coliseum, there are unnumbered spectators aware of your dilemma. Many are watching you, listening to your words. My prayer is for them to see Jesus until you go to be with him.
So powerful to think how Good honors faith in life’s most trying and confusing circumstances. Thank you Michelle. Andrew I just said a prayer for you. And what an eloquent, heart-moving testimony!
Blessings to you, Andrew. I haven’t written that post yet because I am not sure I am brave enough.