Posts Tagged ‘canaanite woman’

Wake Up


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“Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” -Romans 5:3-5

I sit silently. Here in the pouring rain. Happy at last.

I’ve found it.
Or maybe it found me.

A true covering for this pain.

Now I cry, and the world cries with me.

It seems fitting.

On this long journey I searched for one thing. Validation. Proof that I was intelligent, worthy, capable, valued. For years I was stumbling in the dark for words of praise I never found. My efforts were in vain—my cries were in vain. My self-induced misery was for naught. I was beside myself with grief. Yet, I myself, created the hell I lived in.

My hope hardened. It resigned itself to a mere existence of should-of, would-of, could-of… but didn’t. I lost myself in despair, until to despair itself was the norm. But one day, I woke up. The nightmare was self-perpetuating, and I realized that I, myself, was not powerless. Sleep could only hold me for as long as I let it. So, I woke up.

But still that thing I longed for was beyond reach.

I scrambled for crumbs.

I stood idly by like the woman in the bible. Nameless.

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Jesus withdrew to Tyre.
A Canaanite woman from that vicinity came to him, crying out,
“Lord, have mercy on me! My daughter is demon-possessed and suffering terribly.”

Jesus answered her not a word.

The woman came and knelt before him. “Lord, help me!” she said.
He replied, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”
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Misery is no respecter of persons. Jesus came first to the Jews, and she a Gentile, sought Jesus at an inopportune time in an inconvenient place. There were people with greater burdens than her own. Her issue—not insignificant, but at such a time—impertinent.

Yet, like Jacob wrestling with the Angel, she fought with Jesus. She cried out to him in a loud voice. In her distress, strength filled her voice. It was her daughter. And as a mother, the pain could not have been greater than if it was she herself.

Yet Jesus answered not a word.

We are so fond of thinking of God as unhearing and unfeeling. But His silence speaks louder than words. What is He trying to tell you?

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“…Lord,” she said. “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”
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Even she, a Gentile. Unworthy, sinful, desperate. Yet she knew of her condition. She did not bow down in shame. She did not seek the validation of the Jews. But she came to the one person who could look past all outward appearances and conditions to examine her heart. Jesus read her need. He saw her struggle. He saw her faith. And when no one else would validate her—Jesus did.

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Jesus’ disciples came to him and urged him, “Send her away, for she keeps crying out after us.”
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Jesus spoke to her, “Woman. You have great faith! Your request is granted.”

And at that moment, her daughter was healed.
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Despite her struggles, pain and burdens, In Him she found her help.

She found relief.

Wake up. Your help is here. He is here.

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