She stood in the doorway as I was leaving for a while. She looked up at me, I was almost a foot taller, and she said “Why does it have to be so hard?” Of all the answers I could have given, of all the comforting words which could have been spoken, I simply replied with the one thing I was sure of. I knew her pain, her struggle and uncertainty. I knew the mental anguish and the fear. I knew because I had been in exactly the same dilemma just a couple of years before. I was faced with the same life altering choice and cried out to nobody in particular in the middle of the night “Just show me the truth and I will believe it.” I fell under the weight of the immense struggle. And now here she was asking me for the winning formula and the only thing I could offer was the only thought on my mind, “You’re not saved are you?” She said “No” and quickly threw the door shut.
Now I was the one standing at the door, looking at the door, knowing she was on the other side trembling; trembling because she now knew that I knew. I had known with certainty for several months. I had prayed. I had sought relief from the only one I knew who could answer. I had watched and waited with great anticipation. Still I was standing, staring at a door with no handle or knob on my side. So I had to turn and walk away, and pray. So I walked and I prayed. I walked to the car and drove to find others who would pray as well.
Of course it was hard; for her it was hard. It had been hard for me. It was hard to walk away. It was hard because she was the only one who could choose rightly. I wanted to choose for her. I had chosen and now I wanted above everything I could imagine for her to choose. Not just any choice would do. It had to be the right choice. Yet I knew even as I pleaded, it was her choice. It was her struggle with the pleasures of sin. It was her moment to know the cleansing power of the price that had been paid for her or to be covered in the ignorance and fear which had blinded her for years.
It was hours later. As I knocked at the door I hoped she would open it. It was not her. My heart dragged as I stepped in, wondering, still hopeful yet honestly, humanly fearful. Then she was there. She came out of the living room into the hallway and instantly I knew. The glow, the joy, the sparkle in her eyes screamed YES!
The embrace confirmed what my eyes saw, what my hope desired, what my soul longed for. In that hallway half a world away from where I had believed only a couple of years before, heavenly angels rejoiced over this one sinner who had come to repentance. If she had not been floating, I would have been two feet taller than her. There was a real tangible see-able knowable change in her. There was a new spirit abiding within. A Holy Spirit.
It was not the end of struggles. She didn’t understand all mysteries and doctrines and could not fully persuade all men of the truth she now knew. It was as a new baby being born. It was fullness of joy. It was deliverance from condemnation. It was freedom and favor with the Lord. It was salvation by grace through faith and it was hers. She would grow, and learn and know the power of the almighty surging through her as he molded her clay into a vessel fit and honorable for the Master’s use. She would raise her children in the fear and admonition of the Lord. She would know the rewards of obedience and the pain of selfishness. Yet this day, the day of her new birth, she had made the choice. Having been born once of the water and now a second birth by the Spirit, she had made the choice He desired for her since before the foundation of the world. She had been born again.
She had believed the gospel, the good news that God had sent His only son to die in her place so she might live forever. She believed the Jesus had been buried and then rose from the grave to show she could live with Him in heaven eternally. And so can you, if you will believe…