The blind beggar, Bartimaeus, cried out to Jesus, demanding Christ’s presence amidst a crowd seeking His attention. The Lord heard his cries, stood before the blind man, and asked, “What do you want?”
In His presence, I am faced with that question today. The God Who knows me inside out, the One Who carved me into being and understands me in a way even I couldn’t, is asking me that question.
I don’t know how to respond. The question weighs heavy on me. What is at the root of my desires and longings? Why am I so dissatisfied? What do I really want?
I don’t want a Band-Aid. Just like Bartimaeus, I want healing. Complete healing. But what exactly do I need to get healed of?
The past? The present? Myself?
It’s been a while since I last wrote on this blog. A lot has happened since. I’m still trying to lose weight, still longing to finish my novel, still living in China and loving it, still running after a God Who has begun to invade and permeate every aspect of my life. It’s strange, isn’t it? To run after Someone Who is everywhere.
To have found God and still to pursue Him is the soul’s paradox of love. Scorned indeed by the too-easily-satisfied religionist, but justified in happy experience by the children of the burning heart. ~ A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God
I want Him. I want the God Who is at the core of both my satisfaction and dissatisfaction. He is mine and I am His, but I am hungry for more. It’s devastating every time I realize my nothingness without Him. I want – need – a daily revelation of His love if I am ever to walk out His call for my life.
I want Him, but I already have Him. He is wrapped in grand, glorious mystery, but He has been, is and will always be accessible to me.
So what do I really want?
“You’re a good, good Father. It’s Who You are. It’s Who You are,” the Chris Tomlin song goes. “And I’m loved by You. It’s who I am. It’s who I am.”
If my dad asks me what I want, I’d probably have a list prepared for him. And if I asked him for something I want – pizza maybe – he’ll probably get it for me if he had the capacity to.
Why is it so hard for me to believe that God can be the same for me? He is Father, perfect in all of His ways, a better Father than my earthly father could ever be.
Maybe what I want is security. Trust.
Maybe what I want is to not only know in my head that God is my Father. I want to experience it. I want experiential knowledge born out of His presence, power and goodness manifested in my daily reality.
Maybe He is at work within me, around me. Maybe I’m just still so blind to His ways.
Maybe just like Bartimaeus, what I want are eyes that can see.
Is that what I want, Lord? You tell me.
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