11 Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. 12 As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance 13 and called out in a loud voice, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!”
14 When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed.
15 One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. 16 He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan.
17 Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine?18 Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?”19 Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.”
I complain a lot to God. I know that sounds bad, but I don’t think it is. I complain about my circumstances. I ask for provision. I ask for healing. I ask for salvation for my loved ones. I ask for hope. I ask for courage. I ask for help in a million different ways, and if I look at my requests with a critical eye, I can see the complaint in every single one. On the surface, my prayers seem dependant on the Lord. They are filled with the helplessness that we should always assume about ourselves. It’s the notion that, “there but for the grace of God, go I.” And that’s very, very true. But I know it’s more often my doubt and my fear that plunge me into these prayers. I doubt provision. I doubt healing. I doubt hope and courage and strength. If my life and my salvation truly are by the grace of God alone, shouldn’t I be more confident in the lesser things?
For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?
My salvation should be enough for me. The whole world and the things of the world are nothing in comparison to the profound gift of eternal life that Jesus has provided. James put it forward in an interesting light:
You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, to spend it on your passions.
I say all of this to examine honestly my motives. Do I ask for my passion? Do I ask for my fear? Do I ask for my safety? Or do I ask for the Lord? And am I thankful for it?
33 I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”
Is the overcoming of the world not enough for me? Really? Do I praise God for my life and salvation or do I wallow in fear and anguish over the things of this world? And that brings me back to the lepers. They want Jesus to have pity on them. They want healing. They want to be restored. They want to return to their lives. But only one acknowledged the author of his salvation. Only one came back to say thank you and to praise God. That one leper knew that the Lord had saved him from more than his disease. He had given him life, and being thankful for that became his primary goal. He didn’t just take the blessing and run along with his life. He praised the author of his salvation. He praised the King of Kings for his sovereignty, his authority over life, and his mercy.
Lord Jesus, I want to trust You in all things. I want to have confidence in your sovereignty in all aspects of my life. When I come to You, Lord, I want to come in confidence, not fear. I want to come in the knowledge of Your divine grace and mercy. You saved me!
9 “Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10 Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11 If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!
I want to trust You more, Jesus. I want to trust in Your provision, Your life, Your deliverance, because you know what I need and are delighted to give the good gifts we ask for. You love me. Help me trust in Your love so that I can truly worship and praise You with thanksgiving instead of fear.